Jurisdiction
by The Blue Raven
Summary: When a really creepy serial murder hits his desk, Detective Joe Kavanaugh finds himself calling on Will Zimmerman for his unique insights. And promptly finds himself in a very unsettling new world.
1. Chapter 1

**Jurisdiction **

**Summary:** When a really creepy serial murder hits his desk, Detective Joe Kavanaugh finds himself calling on Will Zimmerman for his unique insights. And promptly finds himself in a very unsettling new world.

**Rating:** T for subject-matter including cannibalism and free love (just not at the same time). And I think Joe drops an f-bomb or two.

**Author's Note:** The term "abby" was first applied to an abnormal by James Watson in "Revelations, Part 1" ("What she means is 'the abby went psycho and then got shot to bloody hell.'")

**Author's Note:** The team from the Jeffersonian is mentioned a couple of times but at no point does this fic turn into an actual crossover. I don't have the technical knowledge to do a forensic anthropology subplot justice. Besides, my working title on this was "Joe!fic" for a reason.

**Author's Note:** Oh, yes, and bonus geek-points to anyone who gets Will's middle name, lol.

Mahalo as always to Kameka for the beta (quack, my love). All remaining errors are my own.

**Jurisdiction**

**Chapter 1**

"Hey, Joe," Will greeted him, standing at the door of the office. "I hear you need my 'unique' insights again?"

Joe looked up from the file in his hand, nodding and gesturing for Will to enter. "Close the door. Captain doesn't want _any_ of the details on this one circulating."

Will raised an eyebrow but closed and locked the door before approaching Joe's desk.

"How bad does this stand to make the Department look, exactly?"

Joe shook his head. "It's not that. It's just that the details, when they hit, are going to freak a _lot_ of people out," he explained. "You eaten yet?"

Will shook his head. "That bad?"

"Worse," Joe answered, making a face and handing Will the folder. "You're going to want to sit down for this one."

He frowned and did as directed. Joe knew Will well enough to know that it took a lot to shake him. They had worked some pretty terrible scenes together. When Joe told Will something was 'bad' what he actually meant was that it was 'horrible beyond words'.

He opened the folder and, as promised, his stomach gave a lurch at the crime-scene photo before him. 'Carnage' was putting it lightly. It took him a moment to positively identify the victim (no, from the look of it, victims _plural_) as human, the remains were so fragmented, scattered, and in some cases decayed.

"Jesus," he whispered, tilting his head at the photo.

"It gets worse," Joe told him.

Will held up a finger. "Just give me a second to get my head around the photos first."

"You got it," Joe agreed. He knew Will's drill.

"Two victims? Three?"

"At least three and probably more like five. The forensic anthropologist is still working on that."

"This is, what, an abandoned warehouse?" he asked, leafing through the other photos. "Anything ritualistic at the scene? Evidence of candles or strange writing, things like that?"

Joe shook his head. "As much as your mind wants to go 'cult', there's absolutely no evidence of ritualized activity of any kind. Besides, who would go _back_ there for the next ritual? These killings did not take place at the same time."

"I noticed. Hard to say from the photos, but I'm going to place the time frame on this thing as _months_?"

Joe nodded. "Four to six of them, yeah. You ready for more?"

Will quickly flipped through the photos again. "Based on the manner in which some of this dismemberment is occurring, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess there was at least some cannibalism involved."

"You haven't lost your touch. All the victims display prominent evidence of having been cannibalized. And it gets weirder."

"I'm starting to see why you called me," Will told him.

"Yeah. There are tooth-marks on some of the bones. They _aren't_ all post-mortem."

He looked up, eyes wide. "_Peri_-mortem?"

"_Pre_-mortem, Will. Considerably pre-mortem in at least a few cases."

Will swallowed hard, glad he had opted to skip breakfast so he could get to the Station faster.

"Someone started chewing on them while they were still alive?" he whispered, horrified.

Joe nodded. "Yeah, and here's why I decided to give you a call. It's just too strange for me to wrap my head around. In spite of the fact that the toxicology was completely negative, we can't find a single sign of a struggle. Nothing consistent with flailing or thrashing in the blood-spatter, let alone indications that anyone actively tried to flee. No bruises we can see on the still-intact tissue, no defensive injuries of the bone or muscle."

"Well, given the shape the remains are in," he began, clearing his throat uneasily. This was _not_ good…

Joe shook his head. "The brass brought the Jeffersonian in on this one. If there had been a struggle, that team would have found signs of it."

"They are supposed to be the best," Will agreed. "But, seriously, _no_ sign of a struggle? They weren't drugged yet they didn't resist being eaten alive?"

Joe shrugged. "That's how it looks."

Damn it.

"I'm going need to see the crime-scene and the remains, Joe."

"Well, they've already been de-fleshed, so I'm not sure what they'll tell you but, yeah, whatever you need." He regarded Will thoughtfully. "I know that look. What's on your mind?"

"Don't know. Hypnosis, maybe."

Joe shook his head, expression accusing. "You know something!"

"No," Will answered honestly. "But I have some suspicions that I'd like to check out."

"_Enough_, Will," Joe said firmly, rising. "I can't keep trusting you on blind faith. That Russian family, the two dead cops. You _insisted_ that there was a kid involved! The very next day you quit the Force and completely cut ties with your own life. We were never able to establish a murder weapon and you never once called in to check on the progress of the investigation. And the only reason Will fucking Zimmerman _**wouldn't**_ ask about a case he was interested in is if he already knew how it had turned out!"

"Joe," Will began, but the cop ignored him and plowed on.

"And then there was that 'suicide' I steered your way, the weird shit that went down afterwards…" He shook his head in disgust. "No more lies or half-truths, Zimmerman. I'll throw your ass in a cell for Obstruction!"

"Joe," he murmured, raising both hands in a placating manner. "I absolutely want to catch this killer or killers, but we both know that isn't going to happen on the strength of Standard Procedure."

Joe walked over to the door and locked it. "What have you gotten yourself involved in? Your boss _doesn't __**exist**__!_"

Will frowned and stood up. "You ran a background check on Magnus?" he asked, irritated by that level of invasiveness.

"You bet your ass I did when one approach from her made you walk away from your entire life. I was fairly confident you were still one of the good guys, but now I'm starting to wonder. Your boss having her thugs show up and confiscating that body was _not_ appreciated!"

"That wasn't us," he answered, shaking his head. "Yes, that family had secrets that we wanted to protect, but we don't do strong-arm intimidation. If it had been Magnus behind it, the body and the family both would have vanished in the middle of the night without any fuss and, eventually, people would have forgotten there was anything different about them. No harm, no foul."

"What do you _do_? I don't care how X-Filey it is. I need to know if I'm going to keep trusting you. Because, honestly, you haven't given me any reason to recently. You walked out on us, remember? Turned your back on the whole Force! Completely severed contact."

"You _wanted_ me gone," he countered. "You thought I was crazy."

"Still not convinced you aren't. But obviously something is going on, so let's start with the boss who doesn't exist on paper and go from there."

"Oh, she exists on paper. You just aren't looking in the right place. I'll even give you a hint, Joe," he added, mad enough that he wanted Joe to find out the truth just for the amusement-factor of the look that would be on his face when he did. "She got her medical degree at Oxford. Hell, I'll give you another hint. Don't stop digging when you don't find her where you expected to. If you look hard enough, you will find her."

He shook his head in disgust. "This isn't a game, Will."

"No, but Magnus' secrets aren't mine to tell, either. You want them, you _work_ for them, same as I did. And, when you have learned what there is to know about her, a lot of the rest of the things about us will suddenly be a lot easier for you to accept."

Joe stared at him for a moment, then demanded, "What does the Sanctuary _do_?"

"We're a private hospital and research facility. We are!" he added at Joe's look. "The only thing that makes us different is the nature of our patients and the scope of our research."

"Your research?"

"Mostly pertains to matters of evolution."

"Evolution?" he repeated, looking dubious.

"It's complicated."

"Complicated because I never got any farther than my Bachelor's Degree?"

"No." Will shook his head. "Complicated because I'm not sure an educated guy like you would even believe half of what I've seen and done in the past year."

"Then why don't you tell me about your patients?"

"Also complicated."

"So simplify it, Will! I've got several dead bodies and _you_ have an inkling of what's going on. Now tell me about your patients!"

He sighed. This was one of those moods where Joe was _not_ going to back down. He was pissed that his case had hit a roadblock and he was ready to gun the accelerator and smash through the damned thing, no matter what.

"None of my patients look good for this, but I'm pretty sure Magnus is probably aware of one or two people who fit the general profile."

"The general profile _being_?"

He sighed. "An individual capable of exerting an abnormal hypnotic influence over his or her victim."

"A hypnotist?" he scoffed.

"No, Joe." He shook his head. "Probably some flavor of psychic."

The cop's jaw dropped. He stared at Will, expression incredulous.

"I'm serious, Joe."

"Yeah, I got that," the other man whispered, shifting uncomfortably. The Detective was pale and shaking.

"Sit down," Will directed gently. "I know it's a lot to absorb."

"Your patients are _psychic_?"

"Some of them," Will agreed, steering Joe back to his chair. "Like I said, it's complicated."

"Jesus," the cop whispered, sitting down heavily. "So some nut-job is using _mind-control_ to get people to consent to being eaten alive?"

"That's the shape I'm getting from what I've seen, yeah." Will grabbed Joe's water-bottle and passed it to him.

"How do I bring this to my superiors?"

"You can't, Joe. You're smart enough to know that." He shook his head. "You look a little shocky. You want me to get you something with some sugar in it?"

Joe shook his head and pulled out the roll of Life Savers he always kept in his pocket.

"That how you do it?" Joe asked, crunching on two. "Your knack with crime-scenes and witnesses?"

"I'm not psychic, no." Will shook his head. "My gifts aren't along those lines."

"But you _do_ have some kind of superpower?"

Will smiled and shook his head. "It's not a superpower. It's just a slight difference in brain-function. I see things and make connections that normal human beings can't, that's all."

"'That's all'? Still sounds like a lot to me. I know a lot of Detectives who would kill to be able to learn how to do what you do."

"It's not something that can be learned."

"So that's what you do? You work with people whose brains are superior to those of a regular human being?"

"Not necessarily superior, just different. And it's not always their brains." He hesitated. "The variations are… pretty extensive in nature."

Joe stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"There are a lot of different possibilities. As a general rule, no two abnormals are going to have identical problems and abilities."

"Abnormals?"

He nodded. "It's what we call anyone who either isn't strictly a homo sapiens sapiens or…"

He trailed off. Magnus was going to be pissed but there was no way Will could help Joe without bringing him into the loop at least a little. And, it went without saying, the Sanctuary needed to be involved in this particular case, which Joe could make pretty difficult for them if he took it into his head.

"Joe, can you hang on for one second? I need to make a phone call."

Still looking staggered, the detective shrugged and gestured for him to go ahead. Will pulled out his phone and hit the speed-dial.

"Yes, Will?" Magnus answered.

"I'm at the police station right now, looking at a case-file that I think you should probably take a look at."

"Certainly, Will. I'll be in my office all morning."

"Great. Um, I'm _also_ going to need permission to give Joe Kavanaugh the grand tour."

There was a long pause, followed by a cautious, "Has he become a problem?"

"No, no. In fact, I think he stands to become a valuable ally. He's a good cop, Magnus, and a decent human being."

Another long pause. Then, "Very well. I'll trust to your judgment in the matter."

"Thanks. I'll bring him and the case-file to your office after I've shown him around."

"Mmm. How many casualties, Will?"

"Three to five that we know about, Magnus, but I'm guessing more that they just haven't found yet."

"Very well. I'll alert Ashley and Henry we have a priority case on our hands. Ashley is in the field at present, but she should be back in a few hours. Why don't you have Detective Kavanaugh email Henry the case files so I can get started on reviewing them?"

"Will do. See you in a little bit." He hung up and grabbed a piece of paper, writing Henry's email address on it and passing it to Joe. "Email everything on the case here. Magnus'll start going over it."

"You've got it," Joe agreed, turning to his computer. "What's this about a grand tour?"

"There are things you need to know, possibilities you won't be able to accept unless you see the truth of them with your own eyes."

Joe hit the send button and looked up at Will, his expression wary. "I'm not going to like this one bit, am I, Will?"

He shook his head apologetically. "Probably not. But I also know you're a man who'll do anything to solve the case. And, right now, this is what needs to be done."

Joe hesitated for a moment, then climbed to his feet and grabbed his coat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"This place is _huge_," Joe said as they walked to the elevator. "How many patients do you have?"

"_Patients_, twenty or thirty. Other guests, around fifty, I think, but it varies constantly."

No need to mention the creatures in the SHU yet. Or the cage full of Nubbins, even if he would have paid money to see the look on Joe's face while he tried to wrap his brain around _that_ concept.

"You were really quiet on the drive over here."

"Trying to figure out what to say," Will admitted, shrugging. "This is a lot. I want to make it as easy as I can on you, but there's a lot here you're going to have trouble believing. Some of it, you're just going to have to see for yourself."

"Huh."

The elevator opened and Henry emerged with an armload of server blades so high that he couldn't see over them and bowled straight into Joe. All three of them had to lunge and show off their juggling skills to keep any of the blades from hitting the ground. Safely in possession of all of them again, Henry let out a shaky laugh.

"Thanks, guys. You just saved us many, many thousands of dollars and about twenty terabytes of raw data."

Will grinned. "Henry, this is Detective Joe Kavanaugh. Joe, Henry Foss, computer and security genius."

"Nice to meet you, Detective," Henry said. "I'd offer to shake hands, but…"

"No problem, Mr. Foss. Nice to meet you."

"It's Henry. Welcome to the Sanctuary, man," Henry said, smiling wryly at him around the stack of blades and shaking his head. "Will, got your email and Magnus is on it. Ugly stuff. Ash is going to need a cold shower! Hey, gotta go. Remember, Doctor Who tonight."

"It's a date," Will agreed, steering Joe into the elevator.

"Why was your friend looking at me like that?" Joe asked, frowning.

"Because he knows you're in for the surprise of your life. Not many people see what I'm about to show you and the reason I didn't explain any of this to you in the car is that you _really_ need to see it for yourself to believe it. If I'd explained certain things to you in the car, you probably would have turned around and driven back to the Station, stopping only long enough to drop me off in a padded cell on the way."

Joe's eyes narrowed. "_Not_ loving the sound of this, Will. But I'm kind of a captive audience now, so start talking."

"There's a chance that the attacker was not actually human, Joe."

He frowned. "You're saying a wild animal did this?" He shook his head. "No, Will. The tooth-marks were human, not animal."

"That's where the guided tour comes in," Will told him. "There are individuals who aren't entirely one or the other."

Joe shook his head. "Psychics I'll buy, but _man-beasts_?"

"It's more complicated than that. Some are hybrids, some are protean, some have mutations, some have just evolved along completely different lines in isolated environments, or convergent evolution has led them to look a lot like us. You can't always tell to look." He shrugged. "Magnus didn't bother trying to explain any of this to me. She just brought me downstairs and let me go in blind. Well, not completely blind," he amended. "I did have some previous experience with cryptids."

"Cryptids?" Joe stared at him. "As in 'crypto-zoology'?"

"Yes." Will nodded.

Joe laughed and shook his head. "Okay, you had me up until that point."

"Why would I lie about any of this, Joe?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure you have your reasons. Protecting your boss, maybe. I don't know." He shook his head.

"I need five minutes of your time, Joe. If you aren't convinced after that…" He shrugged. "You can still nail me for Obstruction."

"Idea's starting to sound a lot more appealing."

"Come on," Will directed as the elevator shuddered to a halt and the door slid open. "This is Magnus' main lab."

Joe stepped off the elevator, looking up and around with wide eyes. "Okay, what I said about this place being huge… I think I need a thesaurus, because 'huge' just doesn't quite seem to cut it anymore."

"It's funny," Will told him. "When I learned the scope of what actually goes on here, I felt the exact same way about the word 'huge'. Stops being entirely adequate. Come on."

"What do you _do_ in this place?"

"We protect, we research, occasionally we imprison." He shrugged. "It varies by patient, really."

"You… imprison people here?"

"Not people." Will shook his head. "Monsters."

"_Monsters?_ That the scientific term for them?" he asked, looking up at the monitors hanging from the ceiling.

"Dangerous cryptids. For the most part, we let the police deal with dangerous abnormals unless they're going to be in direct danger from them."

Joe was shell-shocked enough to miss the 'for the most part' and 'unless they're going to be in direct danger' qualifiers and Will didn't bother to clarify for him. One revelation at a time. They could debate the legality of the Sanctuary sometimes holding dangerous humanoid abnormals another time.

"I think the quickest, least traumatic way to convince you that I'm telling you the truth is to introduce you to someone," Will told him, heading directly for Sally's tank.

The other nearby enclosures were all either empty or in darkness right now, so Joe could focus on her alone. The Detective eyed it with a bemused expression.

"Nice fish-tank."

"It isn't for any fish," Will told him with a smile, pressing his left palm to the glass. "Hey, Sally! Can I borrow you for a minute?" he called, reaching for her with his mind, the way Magnus had taught him to.

"Who's Sally?" Joe asked, looking curiously around the lab. "Another doctor here?"

"Sally is one of our guests," Will told him as she swam into view and pressed her hand to the glass. "Sally, I'd like you to meet my friend Joe."

Joe stared with his jaw hanging open. Sally lifted her hand to mirror Will's on the glass, her eyes on the Detective.

_He is distressed. _

"I know. This is all new to him. I thought you might be able to help him with that."

_With pleasure, Will, naturally. Shall I simply __talk__ to him, or would you like to me to put him at his ease more… __**forcefully**__?_

He smiled at her playful tone, shaking his head. "Just tell him what he needs to hear, Sally."

_Ever at your service, my good Doctor Zimmerman._ Sally's tail flicked in what he recognized as her version of humor.

"Play nice," he laughed, shaking his head.

_Always__, Will._ And the comment was accompanied by a tingling warmth that flooded his entire body. It wasn't sexual, even if it felt _very_ nice on a physical level. It was comforting, reassuring. Her version of a hug.

He smiled and patted the glass. "Thanks, Sally. I'll see you for tomorrow's session."

_I look forward to it._

Will murmured his agreement and turned to Joe. "Touch the glass. She'd like to say hi."

Joe, who had been staring at Sally with wide eyes and a slack jaw for the whole exchange, took a quick step backwards.

"It's psychic?"

"_She_ is," he agreed, smiling reassuringly. "But only in a very limited sense. With humans, she can send and receive surface-thoughts, but that's about it except for the limited ability to broadcast very simple emotions and sensations. Her name can't be pronounced by air-breathers, so we call her Sally," he added, giving Joe an encouraging smile and nod.

Joe turned his attention back to Sally, expression tense. She floated there with her hand against the glass, serene as always.

"She recognizes that you're upset," Will told him. "She feels empathy. She'd like to help put you at ease."

"It… _she_ told you that?"

"Yes, she did," he agreed, nodding. "It's okay, Joe. Due to the physiological differences in our brains, she can't dig, only communicate."

"You're positive?"

"Absolutely. She can only go deeper than surface thoughts if you actively want her to. Sally's been here for years and Magnus has studied her abilities extensively. Plus she knows full well that I'd kick her tail for messing with a friend."

Joe gave a bemused smile. Sally's tail twitched.

"It's okay, Joe," Will assured him, lightly grasping the other man's shoulder. "She's my friend. She won't harm you."

"I can't believe I'm about to do this," he whispered, clearing his throat and taking a step towards the enclosure. He lifted a shaking hand and touched his fingertips but not his palm to the glass as if afraid to fully commit. "Uh, hello."

He jumped back with a yelp, staring at Sally with wide eyes and breathing heavily, his whole body shaking.

"Hey, what happened?" Will asked, grasping his shoulder. "Joe, you okay?"

"V… a _voice_. In my _head_…" he panted.

"It's okay, Joe. It's okay. Talk to her," Will urged gently. "I promise you, it's very soothing once you get over the initial shock."

Sally lifted her other hand to the glass as well, tail swooshing slowly as she regarded Joe with an expression and posture that radiated peace and compassion.

The Detective lurched back towards the glass as if compelled by an outside force. He lifted both hands to rest against hers and tilted his head as if listening. The tension drained from his body instantly and Will smiled as he watched his eyes drift shut. He didn't speak, just listened. For better than five minutes.

The he opened his eyes and smiled at her. "It was nice to meet you, too. Hope to see you again some time." He nodded. "I'll remember that. You have a good one, Sally." He laughed in response to whatever she had to say, nodding some more. "You've got it." He turned around to face Will, still grinning. "I should kick your ass for pulling that shit on me without warning…"

Will shrugged. "We both knew there was no other way you were going to believe a word I had to say about any of this. Come on, I'll give you a quick tour of the SHU, then we can go see Magnus."

"I take it you keep the 'monsters' in the SHU?"

Will nodded and gestured around. "These are specialized habitats, but not designed for containment."

Joe stopped to stare at an abnormal hanging from a perch on the ceiling of a darkened cave-habitat, lifting one hand as if to tap the glass.

Will caught his hand. "Don't," he murmured, shaking his head. "For one thing, this isn't a zoo and she is a guest, not an exhibit. For another, she's nocturnal. I'd rather you didn't wake her because I'm the one who would have to listen to her bitch about it in the near-ultrasonic range for half an hour."

He stepped back, dropping his hand. "Sorry. Is she… I mean, she sleeps during the day, hangs upside down, has wings. She some kind of vampire?"

He smiled and shook his head. "_Sanguine vampiris_ is extinct," he told him, gesturing that they should walk on. "Annie's _pteropus sapiens_. She's a frugivore, not a sanguatroph. No real resemblance to a vampire at all."

Joe followed him, shaking his head. "You say that like this is all so _normal_."

"To me it is," Will answered, shrugging. "I deal with these people every day. They're my patients and they're my friends. Some of them are the closest thing I've had to a family since my mother died."

"Well, that's something, I guess, but this job just seems dangerous…"

He could not entirely bite back a laugh. "You think that based on Annie and Sally and you are _not_ going to like the rest of this tour. In fact, maybe we should skip it." He took Joe's arm and steered him in the other direction. "I think I've tested your confusion-tolerance enough for one day. Would you like to meet my boss now?"

"The legendary Helen Magnus?"

Will smiled and nodded. "If you've been digging around on her, I know that, in spite of the lack of documentation, you'll have heard some interesting stories…"

"That's putting it lightly," Joe assured him, shaking his head. "I was starting to wonder whether she was anything other than an urban legend in legal circles."

He laughed. "You thinks she's got a rep with you guys? Try asking around the _academic_ world. Come on. Let's go introduce you to a living legend…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Ah, there you are, Will," Magnus greeted them, rising as they entered the office. She circled her desk, offering her hand to Joe. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Detective Kavanaugh."

"Please, ma'am. Joe is just fine," he assured her, shaking.

Will watched him out of the corner of his eye as he sized her up, smiling. Oh, yeah. Joe had been lulled into a false sense of security by her easy manner, pretty face, and seeming normalness. He would learn…

"Well, if I'm allowed to address you by your Christian name, it's only fair that you be allowed to call me Helen." She smiled. "I'll call for tea."

"Uh, Magnus, Joe's a cop," Will reminded her. "An _American_ one…"

"One tea and two coffees, then," she amended, sharing a smirk with him. "I trust that you've shown Joe enough of our home that he won't be unduly surprised when my butler arrives?"

"Hadn't actually gotten around to mentioning him yet," Will answered. "Sorry."

"Well, you can explain while I call down," she answered, picking up the phone and dialing.

"What's to explain?" Joe murmured as she spoke into the handset. "Another one of these abnormals?"

"Yeah," Will agreed. "The Big Guy's a Sasquatch."

Joe smiled and shook his head. "Okay, now you're just _messing_ with me…"

"Joe, I just introduced you to a real, live mermaid. Why would I joke about the fact that Bigfoot lives here?"

The Detective fell silent at that, looking around. "Who funds all this?"

"That's also complicated. Let's just say that Magnus is as business-savvy as she is every other kind of intelligent. We don't charge our patients, but we _still_ turn a profit. The pay's not great, but it's not awful."

"And I should think the benefits _more_ than make up for the pay-grade," Magnus added, moving to join them. She smiled at Will. "CD of soothing music: twelve dollars. A month's prescription for Periactin: four dollars. Chamomile tea: fifty cents. Actually sleeping through the night for a change?" she teased.

He grinned and conceded, "_Priceless_, Magnus. Absolutely priceless…"

Joe frowned. "Let me get this straight. Working at this place made your post-traumatic stress get _better_?"

"Strange as that may seem," Will agreed, shrugging. "It answered a lot of questions, helped me start to understand some things."

"And you're never happier than when figuring out things that no one should be able to."

"In the final balance, Joe," Magnus told him, "what Will does is not so different from what _you_ do. The chief difference lays in your respective methods. The two approaches are hardly irreconcilable."

Joe smiled curiously. "She always this conciliatory, Will?"

"Not as a rule," he answered, grinning. "I think she likes you, Joe."

"She is still in the room, gentlemen," Magnus reminded them with a grin.

Joe froze as the Big Guy entered the room with their tea and coffee, staring but not commenting and accepting his java with a shaky grin.

"Thanks, Laurence," Will murmured, accepting his. He took a long sip. "Oh, nice! Man, you are an _artist_."

The Big Guy gave a pleased grunt and left the study, Magnus smiling after him. Joe looked ready to comment, then shrugged and sipped his coffee.

"This is pretty great…"

"He takes real pride in his work," Magnus answered, retrieving several file folders from her desk and gesturing for Joe and Will to make themselves comfortable on the couch and armchairs.

Will took the couch, Joe the armchair. Magnus perched on the arm of Joe's chair, handing each man a file. Will raised an eyebrow at her over that seating-choice and she gave a barely perceptible shake of the head, her gently stern expression directing him to kindly drop the matter.

He didn't like the idea of her using her sexuality to win Joe over, but he also knew from experience that being that close to her could raise all kinds of reactions that had _nothing_ to do with sex. Proximity to Magnus was extremely comforting when she wanted it to be. It could be that was all she had in mind. It could also be that she knew Joe was single and liked what she saw. Either way, it wasn't Will's place to judge. She was old enough to know what she was doing.

"Without having studied the remains myself yet, these are only guesses. But given the nature of the crime-scene, the lack of any indicators of a struggle, I would assume you're dealing with one or more Sirens."

"Sirens?" Joe frowned up at her, expression dubious. "You mean like in The _Odyssey_?"

"Precisely_,_" she answered. "The subspecies _sapiens lyrica_ inspired that portion of the epic. You see, Joe, what you find in our line of work is that, more often than not, myth is based on reality."

"Cannibalistic abnormals who use tone, frequency, and modulation to lure and subdue their prey?" Will asked, studying his copy of the file.

"They're classified as anthrotrophs, Will," she corrected him absently. "Not being human themselves, it doesn't qualify as actual cannibalism."

"True," he allowed, leafing through the file but keeping more than half his attention on Joe. Who, while surprisingly accepting, still seemed pretty damned shell-shocked.

Finally, the Detective asked, "How's this work? Magic, or…"

"I'm no believer in the 'supernatural', Joe," Magnus informed him gently. "What, in the past, has been perceived as 'magic' has later become quite explainable in scientific terms. Magic became alchemy which became _chemistry_. Which will give way to some other new science in due course as further knowledge becomes available. What modern science tells us about the Sirens and their power is that sound has been proven to be more than capable of altering both brain-chemistry and bodily function. Any woman who's ever been a nursing mother can attest to this fact firsthand."

Joe frowned blankly at the comparison.

"When a breastfeeding woman hears a baby cry, any baby, not just hers," Will explained, "her brain releasedmassive quantities of prolactin, which causes the physical act of lactation. Sound triggers a change in brain-chemistry which triggers a physical response. There's no getting around it. It happens whether she wants it to or not."

He frowned, considering this with a bemused expression. "Really?"

"Certainly, Joe," Magnus answered easily. "Which made going out in public quite annoying after I'd had Ashley. Absolutely _ruined_ my favorite blouse."

Will gaped at her. Over-sharing much?

"The point remains the same," she told Joe, ignoring Will. "Sound alone may significantly affect thought and behavior. I can't honestly think of another abnormal species who might compel a man to consent to being eaten alive, but I'll need to study the remains to be absolutely certain."

"I'll arrange access," he answered, leafing through the file she had given him. "Is this drawing accurate?"

She peered down at it and nodded. "Yes. Drawn from life in the… late 1400s, I believe. I'd have to look it up in the database to be certain."

"No, that's okay." He shook his head and stared up at her with a bemused look. "They have _wings_?"

"Those that haven't had them removed to Pass as human."

Joe raised an eyebrow, looking like a man having a hard time dealing with a concept. Will hid his grin behind two fingers. He was still occasionally That Guy himself, so it wasn't like he was in any position to judge.

Finally, Joe shook his head and asked, "What kind of surgeon removes a set of _wings_ without mentioning it to anyone?"

"I, personally, have removed six sets of wings in my career, though never from an actual Siren. But my colleague James amputated a Siren's wings some years ago."

He frowned. "You've got a friend who treated a winged _cannibal_ instead of turning her over to the cops?"

"The Siren in question wanted nothing more than abandon her destructive ways. James educated her about a specialized diet that manages to fulfill all of her nutritional requirements and he devised a test for certain protein-markers in her fecal matter which would have indicated that she was still partaking of human flesh. When it became clear that she was no longer a threat to other humans, he amputated the wings at her request. I believe she still undergoes weekly testing for those protein-markers, however."

"See, Joe, that's what we're _about_ here," Will told him. "We want abnormals to have as regular a life as possible, but protecting the human race is also a priority."

"Good to know," he answered, smiling weakly.

Magnus gave his shoulder a squeeze, smiling down at him. Then she climbed to her feet, smoothing her skirt and putting on what Will recognized as her game-face.

"We'll call Ali in as a special consultant. It will take her some hours to arrive from London and we can spend the intervening time establishing the facts of the case."

She climbed to her feet, walking to her desk and picking up the phone. Joe watched her for a second, then leaned towards Will.

"She do that 180 all the time? Friendly and inviting to cold and professional on a dime?" he whispered.

Will smiled. "Never make the mistake of assuming she's cold. Trust me, there's very real passion there. _All_ the time."

Joe grinned and waggled his eyebrows questioningly.

Will shook his head. "No personal experience on that front, but she's unwaveringly passionate about the Mission."

The Detective considered this for a moment. "And you got sucked in because you knew about the mystery-kid?"

"No. I've been a part of this world since the night my mother died. I just didn't know it for a lot of years."

"But you're also one of these abnormals?"

"Yeah. A lot of us spend our whole lives hiding in plain sight, never even realizing we're all that different. The impression I get, and I've honestly been _afraid_ to ask if I'm right or not, is that Magnus realized that night when I was eight that I was different. She's been following my life since."

"Will, she would have been like twelve."

He shook his head, glancing at Magnus as she spoke into the phone. "She hasn't changed since that night, Joe. She hasn't changed in a very long time."

He frowned. "She's an abnormal, too?"

"She is now."

Joe didn't ask about the 'now' part of that statement, which was just as well because Will had _no_ intention of telling Joe the 'how' of her immortality.

"How old is she?"

"Pushing a hundred and fifty-eight."

"Jesus," he whispered, staring at Magnus who was finish up her phone-call.

"Wonderful, James. I'll look forward to seeing Ali soon, then. You take care of yourself." She listened for a moment, then let out a laugh. "Jimmy! Be _good_!" Shaking her head, she hung up. "That man…"

Will gave her a curious look, but she just shook her head so he let it drop. If it was fit to share, she would. From the look on her face, though, he would _never_ know what the joke had been. She was not without a playful side, but there were few people she was quite that playful with. Will probably didn't want to know the details.

"Well, let's go see those remains, shall we?" she asked brightly. "After you, Joe."

0101010

The County Coroner greeted them with a wry smile and a shake of the head. Will thought he saw a flash of something shiny, but she licked her teeth and it was gone.

"I knew you'd be showing up eventually, Helen. But with a _cop_ in tow? That's a new one."

Magnus inclined her head. "Good to see you again as well, Eleanor. We should get together for lunch some time soon."

"I'll have my people call your people," she agreed, nodding. "I take it this is about the cannibalism victims?"

Magnus smiled. "Do you have a _more_ interesting case for me?"

She laughed. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen? Come on, the remains are this way. You just missed the team from the Jeffersonian, but they briefed me fully before they left. Apparently the Feds take precedence over the Old City PD for some reason. Strange people," she added as they walked. "Bug Guy was acting like figuring out rate of decomp on an unknown number of corpses killed six months apart in the same place but with radically different weather conditions was a wet dream come true. And the Bone Chick? I'm not sure how a woman that literal manages to function independently. Rainman, much?" She shook her head. "And that's without me even getting _started_ on some of the experiments Bug Guy and Intern wanted to do to work out the issue of jaw-strength. Pack of freaks, the lot of them. _Talented_ freaks, but freaks nonetheless."

"You say 'freak' like it's a bad thing," Will noted.

She grinned at him over her shoulder. "Doctor Zimmerman, right? Helen's new guy?" She offered her hand.

He smiled and shook. "Yeah, but call me Will."

"So, working for Helen, is it fair to assume that you meet the clinical definition of 'freak' yourself?" She smiled slyly.

"Eleanor!" Joe protested, staring at her with wide eyes.

"You know we don't use that term," Magnus added, shaking her head. "Honestly, Eleanor."

"Hey! It was good enough for my father; it's plenty good for me," she said firmly.

"Your father?" Joe asked, frowning blankly.

"Yeah, didn't I ever tell you that? My parents met at the Freakshow where they both worked. They made really good money at it. Mom had some pretty heavy body mod that just fascinated and horrified everyone. Dad… he had a slightly different act."

That flash of yellow between her teeth earlier. Will chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're half Folding Man."

She grinned, looking delighted. "Picked yourself up a genuine psychic, Helen? I stand impressed."

"I'm not psychic," Will told her. "I'm--"

"Hush, Will. Let her figure it out on her own," Magnus directed, smirking. "Eleanor enjoys a good puzzle almost as much as you do. And that's saying something."

"It most certainly is," he agreed, grinning.

"A _challenge_, hmm?" The Coroner's eyes twinkled and she grinned speculatively at Will for a moment before her expression turned serious. "But I suppose it must wait for another time. Let's see those bones, shall we?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The bones had been laid out in their correct anatomical order on four tables in the lab Eleanor escorted them into.

"Okay, these three tables each represent a single victim. Far table's another one to three victims, but the remains are so sparse and heavily-damaged that we're going to have to wait on DNA to be completely sure," she told them. "Here's our most recent victim."

Magnus walked over to the table indicated. This skeleton was the most intact, both in terms of the number of bones and the relative lack of damage to those bones. Snapping on a glove, she picked up an ulna, turned it over thoughtfully as she scrutinized it.

"I thought these 'experts' you called in were supposed to be the very best," she said, frowning. "How did they mistake these tooth-marks for human?"

Eleanor shrugged. "The Intern posited that the perpetrator had filed his teeth to points. Even if he was more than a little confused on the issue of jaw-strength, I saw no reason to disabuse him."

"Quite probably for the best," Magnus answered, expression musing.

"Still thinking Siren attack?" Will asked.

"Mmm." She nodded and returned the ulna to its place on the table, moving to another and picking up two fragments of femur. She displayed them to Will. "Smashed apart so the marrow could be sucked out," she explained. "They will eat fresh meat if they have to, but they greatly prefer the taste of well-decayed carrion."

"I'm sorry," Joe said, shaking his head. "If they prefer carrion, why kill anyone? Why not rob graves or something?"

"Most bodies are embalmed these days, which makes the flesh quite toxic. And, I should imagine, rather unpalatable as well."

"Uh, right. And it _has_ to be humans?" the Detective asked.

"Human flesh is optimal for them nutritionally, but it's entirely possible for a Siren to live a long and healthy life without _ever_ partaking. Given that there's evidence of pre-mortem trauma here, we need to accept the likelihood that the Siren we are looking for actively enjoys the Kill itself, rather than killing for mere survival."

Will could see Joe considering her words, considering the whole crazy concept of a creature straight out of Greek mythology committing serial murder on his patch. Considering everything else he had seen today. Considering the woman before him, seemingly normal, except for her immortality and her expertise in things that couldn't _possibly_ exist.

Then considering Will himself, who had known the truth for almost a year and never breathed a word of it to anyone, let alone the Police Force he used to be a part of. Not that they had ever been _friends_, exactly, but there were professional obligations that didn't end just because the job had. Joe _had_ to have felt a little betrayed right now, must have been reassessing everything he thought he knew about Doctor William Perry Zimmerman.

Finally, after a full five minutes in which none of the four said a word, Joe told him, "I'm going to need a more detailed profile than usual, Zimmerman. Not just method and motive. I don't know the first thing about these creatures or their habits. It won't be like trying to locate a human perp."

"I'll compile everything I can get my hands on about the subspecies and have it on your desk by morning," he promised.

Joe opened his mouth to answer, then shut it and bent to examine one of the sets of remains instead.

Magnus caught Eleanor by the arm and steered her out of the room. Will looked up, startled, as the door clicked shut, leaving the two men alone and with complete privacy. Trust Magnus. Things needed to be said if his working relationship with Joe was going to be salvaged. Will just thanked God they had never actually been friends as well.

"I _never_ lied to you, Joe…" he began.

Joe scowled and shook his head. "But you never told me the truth, either."

"I told it like it was the _entire_ time I was on the Force and you didn't want to hear a word. And that was before I knew about this whole world. You already thought I was off the deep end. You wouldn't have believed a word of this before today."

"Probably not, but you could have _tried_, Will!"

"_Why?_" he snapped. "So you could mock me some more?" He shook his head, irritated. "I don't need that shit, Joe. I have always been great at my job! And no one _ever_ acknowledged that until Magnus came along! Does it really surprise you that I eventually turned my back on you people with your closed minds and parochial attitudes? There's a whole world out there that you people flat-out refuse to acknowledge, **all** evidence to the contrary!" he shouted.

"I can't solve crimes without all the information, Will! You've withheld things from me, kept me from doing the job!" Joe bellowed.

"Maybe," Will agreed, shrugging and dropping his voice again because yelling wasn't going to get them anywhere. "But, you know what, Joe? Before _any_ of that, I laid truths before you that you refused to accept and that kept us _both_ from doing the job. So maybe I found a different group of people to get the job done when the police won't. We're both culpable here. You want to blame me, that's fine. But don't overlook your own damned mistakes in all of this, either."

Joe shifted uncomfortably. "I… I recognized that there was something sideways in the whole situation with that savant and his father. I came to you. I didn't have to, but I _did_."

If this had been some of the cops he'd worked with in the past, Will would have reached out and grasped his shoulder right now. With Joe, he knew better. He was close, but not there. Not yet.

"You did," he agreed quietly. "And you kept innocent people out of prison when you called me in because that death was absolutely a suicide. And I probably should have told you at the time, but there was another positive result to you involving me. The Sanctuary's investigation? It ended with the older brother, the runaway, going home with his family again."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, Joe. If you want to follow up… They've been my patients, so I can't tell you what makes the family special, but I can get you their contact info so you can check up on them."

He considered. "And that's what you people do? Things like that?"

"It depends on the case," Will answered, shrugging. "But, really, protecting people, humans _and_ abnormals, that's what we do. The better we can make people's lives…"

Joe shook his head, looking confused and frustrated. "But why all the secrecy?"

"People fear what they don't understand. Historically, lynchings and literal witch-hunts have put abnormals in a great deal of danger from 'normal' humans. Most just want to live and let live. Secrecy and Passing have becomes ways of life for most abnormals, with good reason, Joe."

"If they were open about it, they'd be protected by Hate Crime legislation just like any other minority."

"Yes, because Hate Crime legislation has always protected minorities in the past." Will shook his head. "Besides, you need to understand, it's not just regular people who are dangerous to abnormals. There are organizations and secret societies out there who seek to exploit the abnormal population for their own gain. Trust me, I've had run-ins with some of these people." He shuddered. "You wouldn't wish them on your worst enemy. Abnormals just want to live their lives like everyone else. So we help them do that. And, if they become dangerous, like _now_, we rein them in."

"What happens to those individuals?"

Will picked up and pretended to examine a bone, not ready to meet Joe's searching gaze. Tell Joe about the things they kept in the SHU? Tell Joe about Ashley and her take-no-prisoners approach to monster hunting? Tell Joe about people like John Druitt who still roamed free despite their crimes?

Finally, because a man like Joe needed an answer to a question like that, "It depends on the individual."

"I _get_ that you throw some back to the cops if it's safe, Will," he sighed. "But what about the others?"

"We hold some in the SHU."

"Be straight with me, Will," Joe ordered, his voice wavering. "You don't take them all alive, do you?"

Will sighed. "We always try to."

He was honestly surprised by Joe's response.

"I understand."

"_What?"_ He put down the bone and studied Joe curiously.

The Detective closed his eyes, shaking his head, expression pained. Will stared at him, surprise turning to shock.

"You never told me you had to kill a suspect at some point, Joe. I'm sorry."

He shrugged, looking down at one of the bodies. "Suicide-by-cop happens, Will. We both know that."

"How many times?"

"Just once," Joe answered, picking up a rib and pretending to examine it. "Which was _enough_."

"I can imagine. You okay?"

He nodded weakly. "It was a long time ago. I was a complete rookie. Devastated at the time, but my Training Officer was a complete godsend."

Will nodded. "We okay, Joe?"

"I don't really know yet," he sighed, shrugging. "In theory, I understand your reasons for keeping these things secret."

"That's a start. Don't worry, Joe. We _will_ solve this case. Okay?"

Joe sighed and nodded, putting the rib-bone back on the table. While he turned to open the door again, Will quickly moved it to where it actually belonged.

Joe looked at Eleanor. "And I suppose you're a large part of the reason why cops and normal citizens have never found any of this out before?"

"I do my part," she admitted, shrugging. "But a lot of it just boils down to plausible deniability. There are some things people just don't _want_ to believe."

Joe stared down at the remains for a moment. "I'll buy that." He sighed. "I'm honestly not sure how to proceed. I can't exactly issue an APB for a chick of Grecian ancestry with _wings_."

"Ashley's already asking around," Magnus assured him.

"Ashley?" Joe asked.

"Magnus' daughter, our resident monster-hunter. Think Buffy but with substantially better moves," Will told him.

Magnus smiled at Will. "I'm going to have to tell her you said that. She'll be very flattered."

"Just telling it like it is. Ashley Magnus is the best at what she does. Which kind of runs in the Magnus family," he added.

Her smile widened. "You're trying to make me blush, Will!" she accused.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Something tells me I'd have to try a _lot_ harder than that to actually make that happen."

"Almost certainly," she agreed. "Well, I'd say we've seen all we need to here. I have the full reports on the remains from Eleanor, so let's return to the Sanctuary and start discussing matters, shall we?"

"Call if you need anything at all," Eleanor told them. "I'll have my own contacts keep their ears to the ground, do a little digging. I'll let you know if we find something."

"Thank you, Eleanor. Well, gentlemen, shall we?"

0101010

They dropped Joe at the Station on their way back to the Sanctuary. The Detective had other cases, and a few leads to follow up on the Siren case.

"Focus on victimology," Will advised him. "A Siren can get _anyone_ to go with them. Unlike most serial killers, they don't need to target the weak or the vulnerable if they don't want to. Looking at her chosen victims could tell us a lot about the killer's psychology, help me in developing a profile."

"I'll pull that together for you," Joe promised.

"Great, and I'll start my report for you. Just a bare-bones profile until I get the victimology, but also everything I can pull together on habitat, behavior, things like that."

"Okay," Joe agreed, nodding. "I'll be there tonight after my shift."

"We'll be waiting on you," Will assured him. "Feel free to join us for supper if you want. The Big Guy makes a mean pot-roast and Ashley's always got some war-story or other to keep us entertained. Plus Magnus buys wine and shoves it in the cellar for a minimum of fifty years before she lets anyone actually drink it."

"Posh," Joe muttered, shaking his head.

Magnus grinned at them in the rear-view mirror. "Gregory Magnus did not raise a wasteful woman. It was all quite affordable at the time of purchase, I assure you."

"Hey, if you're inflicted with immortality, why not use it to enjoy the finer things from time to time?" Will asked.

"Right," Joe answered, laughing and shaking his head. "I'll see the two of you tonight. It was nice to meet you, Doctor Magnus."

"It's Helen," she reminded him. "And we'll look forward to seeing you tonight, Joe."

She smiled out the window at him and gestured for the Big Guy to drive on.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Joe showed up in time for supper and the Big Guy steered him into the 'family' kitchen. Will was there, along with Henry the tech guy and a petite blonde sitting on the counter swinging her legs.

"Glad you made it," Will greeted him. "Henry you already know."

"Hey, man," Henry greeted him with a nod. "Beer?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"No problem," Henry answered, vanishing into the fridge. "You want one, Ash?"

"After the day I just told you about, what do you think?" she answered, grinning at him. Her smile quickly faded and Joe realized he'd been staring at her. "What?" she asked, expression defensive.

"I'm sorry. I was expecting an Amazon or something. You were described to me as 'Buffy with substantially better moves'," he explained.

She broke into a wide smile, blushing and looking away. "Henry!"

"Innocent," he answered, shaking his head and passing her a bottle of microbrew.

"Well, I know it wasn't Mom, so… _Will?_" she laughed, staring at him. "That is so sweet!"

"Hey, calling them like I see them is part of the job description," he answered with a grin, thanking Henry as he was passed a bottle as well.

Henry handed Joe his bottle and leaned back against the counter next to Ashley. "Making Ash blush? Nice one, Will!"

"Shut up!" Ashley laughed, swatting him on the back of the head. "I am _not_ blushing!"

Henry reached into a drawer and extracted a spoon, offering it to her. "See for yourself."

"Don't make me hurt you," she warned, abruptly looking less than amused.

"Red as a lobster," Henry muttered, smirking.

"Hey! Don't make me roll up a newspaper!"

Henry winced as if she actually _had_ struck him.

Will cleared his throat and looked away, moving to join Joe and looking damned uncomfortable. For her part, Ashley looked mortified.

"Henry, I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No big deal," he answered quietly, sipping his beer with a tight expression.

Ashley slipped down off the counter and moved to stand in front of him. "_Henry…_" she whispered, shaking her head.

Will took Joe by the arm and marched him out of the kitchen.

"What did I just miss?" Joe whispered when they were alone in the hallway, the kitchen door shut.

"Henry's a werewolf," Will explained, shrugging. "He's kind of sensitive about the fact. She can usually get away with saying he's a 'dog' around women, but much beyond that is kind of pushing it."

Joe stared at the kitchen door. "He's…" He swallowed hard. "A werewolf?"

"Yeah." Will nodded.

"Is he safe?"

Will looked irritated by that question. "He once saved my _life_ in his wolf form. He's a decent man, Joe, one of the good guys."

"Okay." Joe nodded, accepting that. He had always considered Will _strange_, but never dishonest. "So he was, what, infected in the line of duty or something?"

"Henry's particular strain of lycanthropy is genetic not contagious. I'm not going to definitely claim that there's no such thing as a contagious werewolf, but that's not anything that's ever been proven, either."

"If he was born that way, why the chip on his shoulder about it?"

"Sorry, Joe." Will shook his head. "Even if doctor/patient weren't a factor, Henry's my best friend."

"Fair enough," Joe answered, taking a sip of his beer. "You… all of this, like it's normal or something. You just casually told me that your best friend is a _werewolf_!"

"A werewolf is what he is, not who he is. Henry Foss is smart, funny, kind, helpful, and loyal. The fact that he's a Class Nine Protean doesn't even register at that point." He shrugged.

Joe stared at the psychiatrist, slipping into Detective mode. Will had changed at this place. He was more confident, more assured. He looked like he had actually started sleeping through the night for a change. He looked happy. For once, he even looked like he _belonged_ somewhere…

The kitchen door opened and Henry and Ashley walked out. "Will, tell Mom we're going to be down in the gym. I figure Henry's earned the right to knock me on my ass a few times."

"I'll let her know," Will promised, nodding and giving Henry a gentle smack on the arm.

Henry gave him a weak smile, then nodded an acknowledgement to Joe, quickly looking away, obviously embarrassed.

"Nice to meet you, Joe," Ashley murmured, taking Henry's hand. "Come on."

Joe watched them go as Will headed back into the kitchen, before eventually joining him again. "They been together long?"

Will shook his head. "Henry and Ashley are complicated enough that you'd need a scorecard to keep track of all their issues. Long story short, not involved."

"Oh. They just seem…"

Will shrugged. "Like I said, complicated."

"_Complicated?_" Magnus asked, entering the little kitchen. "Talking about me behind my back again, Will?"

He smiled at her and shook his head. "Ashley and Henry decided on a little mixed martial arts, so they won't be joining us."

Magnus frowned. "But it's suppertime."

"They needed some alone-time," Will explained simply.

"Ah." She gave the psychiatrist a pained look. "Here we go again. Third time this week. I wish he would just stop this tap-dancing and take the woman to bed already."

Joe stared. "You want a werewolf to sleep with your daughter, the monster-hunter?"

She nodded. "It would be good for both of them on any number of levels, I should imagine. They certainly suit each other in terms of their interests and personalities. To say nothing of the fact that routine orgasms would help Ashley with her hypertension and Henry with his anxiety disorder."

Will looked like a man trying very hard not to laugh. Joe was willing to bet it had more to do with the look on his own face than with anything that had just come out of his boss' mouth.

"Dinner will be served in just a few minutes," Magnus continued, ignoring Will. "And Ali will be here in a few hours. Shall we discuss the case in the meantime?"

"Sounds good," Joe agreed, happy to change the subject. "How dangerous are these Sirens?"

"Aside from the ability to completely control an individual's behavior and emotions and a bent towards anthrophagy, they're quite harmless," she answered, shrugging.

"Uh… _Right._" Joe nodded slowly, eyeing her uncertainly. To him, the really disturbing part was that Will didn't seem to find the comment remotely odd or amusing.

"Helen," the Big Guy grunted, leaning into the kitchen. "Steve needs you."

"He need a shrink, too?" Will asked, climbing to his feet.

"No, just a physician."

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen." She smiled at them. "Feel free to start supper without me. I'm not feeling particularly hungry as it is and, without Henry and Ashley here, either…" She shrugged. "I'll be in my office when you're both done."

"Okay," Will agreed. "Give me a call if you need me."

"Naturally, Will." She smiled at him, inclined her head to Joe, and swept from the room.

"She's really more than a hundred and fifty years old?"

"Yeah." Will nodded. He gave Joe a conspiratorial grin. "Aged well, hasn't she?"

"Will, man, your boss is a _babe_," Joe stated firmly. "Also vaguely terrifying…"

He frowned. "Terrifying? Magnus?You're kidding?"

He cleared his throat and did his best 'British chick' voice. Which was, admittedly, pretty damned horrible, but close enough to convey the point. "Oh, no, aside from the mind-control and the cannibalism, they're _completely_ harmless!"

Will laughed. "You think that's scary, never let her get you alone in a submarine!"

Joe gave a bemused laugh. "Do I even want to know?"

"Let's just say that it involved death-threats and bondage." He stopped dead, turning from pink to red to purple in pretty short order. "Oh, God, did I just say that _out loud_?" he whispered, looking appalled. "Joe, it wasn't like that!"

Joe stared at him, stomach giving an uncomfortable squirm. "If it wasn't what it sounded like, do I want to know what it actually was?"

"She had a brain parasite and good reason to believe I wanted her dead."

"Huh." Joe considered this for a long moment. "She gets these mood swings frequently?"

"Oh, God no." He shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. "It was just the parasite talking. Magnus is the most rational, level-headed woman you'll ever find. She is the Rock this House is built on."

Joe nodded, wondering if Will had _any_ idea how far gone he sounded. He was going to have to remind the younger man that sleeping with coworkers was never a good idea.

"She organized all of this? Herself?"

He shrugged. "Well, she initiated and spearheaded it. She's not above asking for help when she needs it, but she's always been the driving force. She made all this happen, here and all over the world." He smiled and shook his head. "Woman's a Force of Nature, Joe. You'll learn that about her _very_ fast. And, when you get the opportunity, ask her about the places she's done and the things she's seen. Amazing, all of it, really_._ It's a complete honor to be allowed to work with a woman like Magnus every day."

"Right," Joe agreed, deciding that _just_ being in love with the woman would have been easier on Will than this fetishistic hero-worshipping trip he seemed to be on instead.

Which also meant that he wasn't going to be able to trust Will to be the least bit objective about _anything_ that went on here. Odds were good that he'd be more than comfortable lying to protect Magnus which was a troubling consideration. Will freely admitted to kidnapping and sometimes even _killing_ these abnormals, at least some of whom were essentially human. It made Joe wonder what else was going on in this place, behind closed doors.

He was going to have to do a lot of nosing around before he could be comfortable leaving these people to their own devices. As Will started briefing Joe on Siren behavioral patterns, the Detective started compiling a list of other cops who could be trusted with this secret should it become necessary to bring the Sanctuary down.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

When Aleka Pappas entered Magnus' office, Will's first thought was that she was that she was _exactly_ what a man-eating abnormal with the reputation of her species should be. Small and dark, obviously of Greek extraction, black hair swept back in a tight bun, trim figure complimented by a tailored suit that probably cost more than Will made in a month, under five feet tall and didn't even bother with heels. Absolutely stunning features, like something off an ancient statue of Artemis. She _oozed_ assurance and competence. Oh, and more than a little raw sexuality…

"Helen," she greeted Magnus with a smile that suddenly made her look about eight years old. Yet she somehow still managed to be hot, which was a pretty disturbing trick.

"It's good to see you again, Ali," Magnus answered, bending to give the much smaller woman a kiss. On the mouth.

Will just shrugged in response to Joe's questioning look. It wasn't a passionate kiss, could have been nothing but friendly, perhaps just the way members of Aleka's species said hello. On the other hand, he had never really dared to speculate much on Magnus' love-life. He knew she had one, and probably a fairly active one at that, from her comments in the Triangle, but she kept it low-profile and Will respected her too much to pry. If mind-altering abnormals were her thing, that was _her_ business, not his.

"Doctor Will Zimmerman, US West Coast Sanctuary. Detective Joe Kavanaugh, Old City PD," Magnus introduced them. "Doctor Aleka Pappas of the London Sanctuary."

"A pleasure to meet you both, gentlemen," she answered, extending her hand to each in turn. "I reviewed the case files you sent on my flight over. Now, how can I help?"

"Well," Joe answered eying her like she was a rabid dog, "you can start by explaining how you creatures convince a victim to consent to his own cannibalization while he's still alive."

"Joe, man," Will protested, shaking his head. Not cool…

"No, that's quite all right, Doctor Zimmerman. I've grown quite accustomed to a certain degree of prejudice in my dealings with typicals. I'll be happy to clarify this issue for Detective Kavanaugh."

She smiled reassuringly at Will, then turned her attention to Joe, expression becoming serious.

"The thing you must understand about Sirens, Detective Kavanaugh, is that we are, by nature, cold-blooded killers. Many of us actively enjoy the Kill, some on a sexual level in addition to the primal one. Before I embraced my Higher Power, I myself was directly responsible for over four-hundred human fatalities, and I seldom bothered to concern myself with the comfort of my victims. They were prey; they didn't matter. Less than animals to me. Animals deserve the consideration of killing them before you make a meal of them."

"Uh huh," he answered, nodding and regarding her thoughtfully.

"You understand?" she asked gently.

"Yeah."

"Good." She nodded. "Hand me your gun."

Joe unsnapped his holster and passed the gun to her. Will took a step forward, but Magnus put her hand on his arm and shook her head. He subsided, trusting to Magnus' judgment. She knew and trusted Aleka Pappas, so naturally Will extended the Siren his own trust as well.

"Now kneel down," Aleka directed mildly.

Will stared at Magnus, incredulous. This was over all kinds of lines! Magnus gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and shook her head again, expression firm. He hesitated, watchful and ready to lunge at Aleka if he had to.

When Joe was on the ground, looking up at her with an expression of utter disconcern, she pressed the barrel of the pistol to his forehead and bent over, breathing in his ear, "Point taken, Detective?"

He stared up at her with wide eyes, slowly accepting the gun she was offering back to him.

"What the fuck just happened?" he demanded, accepting Will's offered hand and letting himself be pulled to his feet.

"You made the mistake that all Siren victims have made for time immemorial, Detective," Aleka told him gently. "You _listened_."

Joe stared at her, looking a little breathless and a lot unsettled. Will could see him straining to be more freaked out than he actually was.

"The way I modulated my Voice forced your brain to release a flood of oxytocin and vasopressin."

He frowned blankly.

"Oxytocin reduces fear and increases trust, serenity, and bonding," Will offered. "And in men vasopressin promotes pair-bonding and reduces the production of cortisol, the stress-hormone."

He stared at Aleka. "And you can do that just with your _voice_?"

"The Voice is not all-powerful but it has its uses. I also do a damned convincing Ecstasy impersonation," she answered mildly. "_**Extremely**_ useful in a therapeutic context. Would you like to see?"

Joe took a hasty step backwards. "Thanks but no thanks. I'll just take your word for it."

"As you say," she answered, smiling and inclining her head. "But don't worry, Detective. Physical proximity to a Siren alone has zero effect on brain-chemistry and even the effect of my everyday speaking voice is negligible, no more than that of a typical."

"A 'typical'?" he repeated.

"Someone who's not an abnormal," she clarified. "It's a rather derisive term, so you won't hear Helen or Will using it. Helen is most touchy about people treating typicals with anything other than respect."

"Ah." He gave a weak smile and a shaky nod.

"You're upset. If you'd like, I can help you relax," she offered.

He shook his head. "Think I'll get there the old-fashioned way. With a half pint of bourbon after I get home."

Her answering smile was understanding. "I know my method of showing you what my people are capable of was disturbing in the extreme and I apologize for your discomfort, Detective, but you needed to know, to _understand_. The person responsible for these crimes is taking something beautiful and warping it. Given half a chance, we can bring individual humans a feeling of peace and rightness. But your killer brings only pain and defilement."

Joe frowned and Will could see the other man's mind working. He was doing his own version of Will's usual routine, studying and analyzing, drawing conclusions based on what he saw, what his gut told him. Will did not bother to point out that gut-instinct was useless in evaluating a creature with the abilities of a Siren. Joe didn't need to hear that; this was all confusing and unsettling enough for him already without taking the security offered by the cop's instinct out of the equation.

But Will watched for both of them, tuned out his emotions and got analytical. Tone and volume were usually useful, but not here, not with an abnormal who manipulated others with her voice as a matter of course. He ignored those cues and studied her kinesthetics instead. A hand-gesture here, a tilt of the head there. Subtle tells. Microexpressions: disgust, anger, sorrow, _shame_… All there, right where they should be, split-second tensing or relaxing of facial muscles that could not _possibly_ be faked because they were so quick. He had been studying up on microexpressions since that nightmare with Nomad. It came in handy. He could say with confidence that Aleka meant every word. She was pissed.

0101010

Joe spent some time considering Aleka's words and the other three 'people' in the room stood in silence and just _let_ him.

She meant it, he decided finally. The idea of a Siren using its powers to kill humans offended her. It _disgusted_ her. It made her feel guilty, ashamed. He didn't need Will's people-reading skills to see that about her. The killer's actions were shooting her Sacred Cows and she was ready to shoot right the hell back. Which was fine by Joe. Just like reformed burglars made the best security consultants, Aleka was probably the person to have on the case where a series of Siren attacks were concerned.

"Okay," he said finally, nodding. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will relax marginally. "Everything you can tell me."

"Of course," she agreed readily.

0101010

Their questioning of Aleka ran late, _very_ late. It was past three in the morning when Will finally reluctantly admitted to needing some rest if he was going to be good for a damned thing come morning. Magnus called it a night and showed Joe to a guestroom, assuring him before she left him at the door that her home was his home and that he should find her if he needed anything at all. He thanked her, assured her that all he needed was sleep, then waited until the echo of her heels on the marble floors had faded away.

Like he was going to be able to _sleep_ with all this going on?

He decided to explore instead, telling himself firmly that he was just wandering to clear his head, not snooping or anything. Not wanting to be caught anywhere too sensitive on his first night here, because then he would _never_ get an invite back, he confined himself to what seemed to be public areas.

Offices, a gym and adjoining dojo, a shooting range, several libraries and lounges, banks of computer terminals, lots of long echoing hallways. He ran into one or two residents, most of whom were friendly enough. One or two stammered their excuses and left at a run, as if seeing strangers was so novel as to be terrifying to them.

Eventually, without meaning to, he found himself standing before Sally's tank.

"Are you awake in there?" he asked quietly. After a few minutes, he turned to go, barely catching the movement out of the corner of his eye as she swam to the glass. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Her answering look was understanding and she lifted her hands to the glass. When Joe had raised his own hands to mirror hers, her 'voice' filled his head, low and lyrical.

_You're troubled again, Joe._

"A little, yeah," he admitted, nodding.

_Why?_

"It's complicated. I'm not sure there are even _words_ for all of it."

_May I? _He felt what he could only define as a nudge to his consciousness.

"Does it hurt?"

_No, or I would not ask. Trust me, Joe. It's not in the nature of my species to intentional inflict discomfort on other sentients._

"Go ahead, then. Just, not too deep, okay?"

_Tell me when you wish me to stop._

"I will," he assured her.

Soft 'laughter' answered those words. Warmth flooded him and there was a sensation, almost like having long, delicate fingers running through your hair and stroking your scalp. Except, in this case, it was his _psyche_ being caressed.

And it felt good.

_You doubt Will and you fear Helen,_ Sally noted. _But they are __**good**__ people, Joe Kavanaugh. _

"Probably, but I have no way of knowing for sure."

_Observe them. Their actions will prove their intentions, _she promised. _May I go deeper?_

"Yeah, but not _much_ deeper, if you don't mind."

The sensation changed, now more like a firm massage than an almost-teasing caress.

_The one who calls herself Aleka troubles you. You __wish__ to trust her, but are afraid to. Thinking of her makes you ashamed…_

"I handed her my sidearm five seconds after she told me she's killed literally hundreds of humans. I knew in my heart she had killed all those people and I still handed the gun over."

_You trusted her._

"But I shouldn't have. My trust in her was chemically-induced. How do I _ever_ know after that whether my trust for her is the real thing?"

_You could __ask__ her._

"Like she'd tell the truth?"

_She told you the truth about her victims._

"Yeah, but…" He hesitated.

_You don't __have__ an answer to that, Joe._

"No, I don't." He sighed. "Look, is there somewhere around here a man can get a smoke?"

_Helen doesn't allow smoking in the building itself, but guests and residents are permitted to smoke in the garden._

And he suddenly knew the quickest possible route to get upstairs and outside to the gardens.

"Thanks, Sally. It was good talking to you again. Thanks for listening."

_Any time, Joe,_ she assured him. _Try not to let this trouble you so greatly. Helen will make everything better. She always does. You must have faith in that._

"Not sure how much faith I can have in a woman I just met who's established a world-wide Underground of creatures that shouldn't exist."

_Should I not __exist, Joe? _she challenged gently.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. That was out of line."

_You'll learn to accept our world, but I don't expect it to happen overnight, even for a man as open-minded as you. You have great doubt and conflict. You should discuss these things with Will. He's a good man. He can __help__ you. _

"Well, considering the amount of my conflict that directly centers around the man…"

_There is that,_ she agreed. _I suppose that means you'll have to talk to __me__ instead, when you're ready. For now, Joe, go in peace. And, should you need anything, it's not as if I'm going anywhere…_

He laughed and nodded. "Thanks, Sally. I'll see you around. Now get some rest. I'm sorry I woke you. Thanks."

_My pleasure Joe Kavanaugh. Should the need arise, you know where to find me. I require little or no sleep for much of the year, so the hour honestly doesn't matter._

"I'll bear that in mind. Thanks."

Leaving her to do whatever it was that a mermaid did on a lonely night in a giant underground fish-tank, Joe headed for the garden. He had been off cigarettes for almost three months when this case hit, at which point the patch had simply stopped being enough. He wasn't proud of it, but he was _never_ going to get to sleep without a smoke. Not after the day he'd had…


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The garden was not as empty as he had hoped it would be. As he walked around to keep the chill from settling into his bones, he came upon a large stone fountain. A young woman with a pony-tail wearing cut-off jeans, a bikini top, and nothing else sat on the edge of the fountain, her bare feet dipping in and out of the water.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked. "Or is that your thing? Your, um, your abnormality?"

"One aspect of it, yes," she answered quietly, giving him a surprise.

"Aleka?"

"I won't bother with a lecture on how bad cigarettes are for you," she answered, still not turning as he approached. "No doubt you've heard it all before. I can hardly blame you for needing _something_ to settle your nerves after everything that's transpired."

He walked up to her, meaning to sit on the edge of the fountain next to her, to apologize for calling her a creature instead of a person earlier, but he froze as he drew close. Without even thinking, he reached for her back with both hands.

Enormous parallel scars ran from her clavicles straight down her back until they terminated just above her waistband.

They were terrible: deep and wide and puckered on the edges, a horrible livid red mottled with traces of purple and silver. She froze at the feel of his hands but made no move to pull away. Nor did she ask him not to touch her.

"Did it hurt?" he whispered, lightly running his fingertips over the scars, feeling amazed to find that they still felt slightly hotter than the surrounding tissue even though they were obviously ancient history, healed for years or even decades. "Having your wings removed?"

"The healing process was slow, but medication kept the pain largely in check. The worst part remains the fact that I still sometimes feel sensation in them," she answered, shrugging.

"Phantom pains? Wow. And you did this to yourself just to be able to Pass as a human being?" he asked, trying to understand. He couldn't imagine mutilating himself like that, not for anything.

"Being able to show your face in public in the light of day is more important than a man such as yourself will ever know. I don't regret my decision, Detective."

"Name's Joe," he reminded her. "Was it hard? Giving up eating humans?"

"I'm always hungry, _never_ satisfied. I smell you standing so close and the ache and longing increase."

"I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone."

"No, don't go." She shook her head. "I make a point of surrounding myself with humans for as much of each day as possible."

"Don't take this wrong, but that seems a little masochistic given what you just said."

"I can't risk relapse. I must constantly relearn the art of restraint for everyone's safety. Please feel free to join me, assuming my earlier behavior hasn't made it impossible for you to trust me."

"You put a gun to my head after taking it from me by deception. I know damned well that I shouldn't trust you. I just can't _not_." He shrugged in confusion, then remembered Sally's advice. "Did you do that to me?"

"No. Any effect you might have felt from what happened in Helen's study would have dissipated hours ago. If you trust me now, it's because you know full well that I was completely capable of pulling that trigger and still chose not to do so."

He considered this for a moment, then sat down next to her on the raised lip of the fountain.

"You take this case personal," he noted.

"Wouldn't you in a similar situation?" She shook her head. "The killer's a Siren, one of my own. I _should_ take it personally. It would be odd if I didn't."

Joe frowned. "Are you going to be comfortable helping us catch this guy?"

"Not comfortable, but I'll still do the job. I'd rather someone of my own blood not be taken down by a typical. We have our own ways, and they are _nothing_ like yours."

"Fair enough, I guess, as long as justice is done. I don't like the idea of going outside the law, not one bit, but I also don't like the idea of setting a predatory Siren loose in a human prison given what I know they're capable of."

"Pragmatic of you." She turned her head and smiled at him, face pale in the moonlight.

"If a guy were sitting here thinking to himself that you're a very beautiful woman, would that be him or his reaction to your abilities?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I have made no attempt to influence you beyond the original, Joe Kavanaugh. I'm given to understand that all of this, our entire world, is something you've been aware of for less than twenty-four hours?"

"Yeah. Still finding my feet."

"You must be a remarkably open-minded man. It says something about you that you're willing to sit here alone in the dark with a 'creature' such as myself."

"I'm sorry. It was a bad word-choice. I was out of line."

"Not remotely," she answered, shrugging. "I _am_ a creature. I'm not an animal and I'm not a human. I'm an 'other'. And, I assure you, I'm routinely called far worse than 'creature'."

He frowned. "By other Sanctuary staff?"

"No." She shook her head. "Staff is screened thoroughly and prejudice alone is usually grounds for dismissal even when there's been no overtly offensive behavior. But we can hardly start punishing our patients and guests for thoughtcrime."

"I keep hearing that distinction, patients versus guests. What's the difference?"

"A patient comes to us, usually because they cannot control their abilities which can make day-to-day life difficult and even _dangerous_ under the right circumstances. You've heard of spontaneous human combustion?"

"Yeah." He nodded. Fringe as beliefs went, but who hadn't heard of it?

She nodded. "Most cases are actually uncontrolled pyrokinetics who panic when they first manifest. The ability is controlled by adrenaline, so fear makes it more powerful. The flames grow in intensity. It starts as a small spark, but that spark frightens you, so you panic and the flame becomes stronger, which scares you more which makes the flame stronger still. It's a vicious cycle for them. Death by immolation is the almost certain outcome."

"That's a scary thought. Not how I'd want to die."

"No," she agreed. "So those sorts of people are our patients, people who have powers they _must_ learn to control for everyone's protection. Or, perhaps, abnormals who have become sick or injured through other means. Hate Crimes against certain abnormal groups are rampant, so we patch up a lot of beating victims. Again, patients. Or abnormals may feel frightened by their gift, or disgusted with themselves because of it, or fearful of being discovered. Those individuals see people such as Doctor Zimmerman and myself, the Sanctuary's psychological team. Every Sanctuary House has at least one or two psychiatrists or psychologists and we have others who are independent contractors all over the world."

"So people who come to you for therapy are patients, too. Got it. How are they different from guests?"

"Guests come to us without medical or psychological problems, generally for protection from the outside world. You've met Helen's butler?"

"Laurence, yeah." He nodded. "The Big Guy."

"Well, he first came to her as a patient. He'd been badly shot by some drunk and frightened hunters. Helen rescued him, removed the slugs, and nursed him back to health. At that point, he stopped being a patient, but he refused to leave Helen, either, so he stayed on. First as a guest and then as an employee. We turn no one away. _Any_ abnormal who is too fearful to remain in the outside world is welcomed by the Sanctuary."

"And Will says you don't charge for any of this?"

"Naturally not. The Sanctuary is a public service, not a corporation."

"So how do you pay for it all?"

"Studying the ways in which abnormals are different from regular humans has allowed us to synthesize some wonderfully useful compounds. We hold the patents on numerous pharmaceuticals and medical techniques."

He chuckled, had to. "Like the Men in Black?"

"Yes, except we don't confiscate tech from off-world visitors. We simply adapt and apply the knowledge which we've gained from treating our patients. It's win-win."

"Sounds like it," he agreed.

She turned her face skywards, staring fondly up at the moon.

"Your species is nocturnal?"

"When it suits us to be. But we're highly adaptive. During the parts of the year when weather is good, the majority of shipwrecks would occur at night, so we evolved to be able to stay awake and alert in darkness. At other times of the year, storms caused most shipwrecks, so we had to evolve to be quite flexible in our schedules."

"You people here at the Sanctuary talk about evolution a lot."

"Mostly because it's inescapable. It's _there_, so we might as well embrace it."

"I guess. You evolved to eat human flesh? Why human?"

"Humans were convenient. We would have needed to _compete_ with them either way. There were too many of them and they were too smart. And, once they moved into an area, other prey species were depleted in short order. It was migrate or adapt. We chose to adapt. We won the Evolutionary Arms Race and _homo sapiens sapiens_ became our prey."

"Yet now you live among us and try to Pass?"

"The problem with an Arms Race is that it's usually a prelude to outright war. Things are different now. We don't need humans to survive any more. There's no reason not to co-exist peacefully. Being smarter and stronger doesn't make us better. It doesn't make you inferior, only _different_. You have the right to be given a chance to survive, just like any species."

He considered this. She may have said she felt no prejudice against humans, but her words and tone made it abundantly clear that she considered herself different, _better_. Which he didn't like but could at least understand.

"Tell me what the Kill is like," he directed. "Getting into a killer's headspace is usually the kind of thing I'd go to Will for help with, but I think, for once, I've got access to someone with insight superior to his."

"What I have to say is disturbing. Would you like me to use my Voice to calm you?"

"No, I don't want you messing with my brain-chemistry. I need to be in a specific state of mind to work a case. Just tell it like it is and I'll let you know if it gets too hairy and I need you to stop."

"Fair enough." She drew a deep breath. "The Kill. The Kill is the ultimate reminder that you are, in fact, _alive_. It's exhilarating, affirming. It is gaining a feeling of power by being willing to surrender yourself to something other than logic. It is a scream of agony, coupled with a plea not to stop, not ever. It's security, comfort, the smell of bread fresh out of Mama's oven on a Sunday afternoon. And the _taste_…" She trailed off, looking as troubled as Joe felt.

"And you gave all that up voluntarily?"

"It had turned me into a monster. It had to end…"

"Wow," he whispered, watching her through new eyes.

She talked about killing the way many successfully recovered junkies talked about their drug of choice. You remembered it and remembered it _fondly_ for the most part because it felt good at the time. Which disturbed and disgusted you because you _never_ wanted to be that person again. So you tried that much harder, made yourself be that much stronger. You'd never get out from under the addiction, but you could _still_ triumph over it.

"I should go to bed now. Will you walk me?"

He nodded, looking for somewhere to discard the cigarette that had gone out at some point during their discussion without him even noticing. She helpfully pointed out a small trash-bin, discreetly tucked away between a bench and a bush.

They walked in silence until they reached her bedroom door.

"Good night, Aleka. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

She nodded and opened the door, then turned back to him. "If I were a different sort of person, I would use my powers right now to convince you to come inside."

He stared down at her with wide eyes. "Uh…"

"Too forward?"

He shrugged. "I want to. I'm just terrified to. I mean, how would I ever know if it was _me_?"

"If you feel fear, that isn't me." She shook her head. "There's no selective advantage to instilling fear in your chosen prey-species. Sirens are incapable of evoking most negative emotions with the Voice."

"So it's all me? Wanting to come in, too?"

"It is," she confirmed. "You aren't married, are you?"

"No, not for a couple of years."

"Girlfriend?"

"Too busy with work to really get out and socialize much."

"Then there's nothing to keep you from joining me," she said reasonably.

"Cops aren't encouraged to fraternize."

"With other cops. I, however, am a psychologist."

"You don't think it would make working together awkward?"

"Not if we're both clear at the outset what we want from this."

"What _do_ you want?"

"Company, Joe. And sex, of course. The man who usually gives me those things is in London. Hardly convenient."

He stared at her. "Convenient?"

"Our arrangement is casual. He expects nothing from me other than what I give him at night. I'm free to take whoever I want to bed so long as that occasionally includes him."

Joe shook his head. "I don't really do casual sex."

"Fair enough, although I assure you, James and I both undergo routine STD screens. I'm clean and I have condoms in my room. Still, the choice is yours." She smiled up at him. "Sleep well, Joe. I'll see you in a few hours."

He watched her go, making no attempt to influence him even with further words, let alone the whole mind-control thing. Casual, something she could take or leave. Mildly insulting but hugely comforting as well.

"Wait," he murmured, grabbing her shoulder. "Uh… I don't do this kind of thing usually, but…"

"I understand," she assured him with a comforting smile. She reached up and cradled his face in both hands. "It's okay, Joe. You are okay. I won't do anything you don't ask me to."

"No Jedi mind-tricks."

"Fair enough," she agreed, nodding. "Now come to bed."

Unable to believe what he was doing, he accepted the hand she proffered and followed her into her bedroom. A cannibal in the equivalent of a 12-step program for her addiction to human flesh, a woman with 400 unjustified kills under her belt.

If this was how he reacted to her when she wasn't controlling him, he would hate to see what he would have acted like if she _had_ tried to sway him. But he didn't believe he was being influenced either, not as conflicted as he felt, so he followed her to bed with something almost resembling confidence.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

He had fallen asleep with a beautiful woman in his arms and woke up alone. Which he supposed was fair enough since she had made it clear the encounter was casual in nature. He _still_ found himself missing her presence.

Then, as consciousness returned the rest of the way, he realized that she _was_ still in the bedroom, sitting on the window-seat with her back to him, forehead pressed against the glass. Well, of course she was still here. Duh. It was her room after all.

He frowned as he watched her sitting there. She was shaking.

"Are you okay?" he asked, climbing out of the bed and moving to her side.

She nodded, not looking at him. When she spoke, he realized why she wouldn't look at him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, you didn't. This is the time I normally get up. You're crying, Ali," he whispered, grasping her bare shoulder. "Did I say or do something to upset you last night?"

"No, Joe." She smiled weakly up at him, shaking her head. "Just part of my regular morning ritual, I'm afraid. It's the faces of my victims, you see. They haunt me."

Ouch. He sat down next to her and drew her into his arms. "Would you like to talk about it?"

She shook her head, but wrapped her arms around him anyway, leaning into his chest. "Thank you."

"You can't make up for the lives you've taken. But you can make the world a better place and that's got to be worth _something_."

"I know. And I'm blessed to have an immediate superior who knows a thing or two about redemption himself. He's very kind to me. He comes as close, I think, as anyone could to understanding how I feel."

"Yeah?"

"He made a mistake in his youth, trusted the wrong person, let that person get close, discussed the details of a major serial murder case he was working with that individual when that individual just so happened to be the killer. He blames himself for the murders, for inadvertently helping his friend escape justice, for not seeing the warning-signs from him in the first place."

"Sounds like he beats himself up over it, but it doesn't sound like his fault."

"No, but he's never seen it in those terms. He's carried a lot of guilt for a lot of years. He's helped me learn to live with my own."

"Except for the daily crying-jags."

"Coping is coping. If it doesn't interfere with my work, it's _not_ a problem." She shrugged, straightening and smiling at him as she brushed away the last of her tears. "Thank you for last night, Joe. I wouldn't mind repeating the experience. In fact, Will and Helen need to do morning rounds on the patients, so we have time now if you don't mind skipping breakfast."

"Don't know," he teased. "Most important meal of the day, after all."

"Shut up and take me to bed."

"If you insist," he agreed, scooping her into his arms, securing her against his chest, and carrying her bodily back to the bed.

He realized as he did that he hadn't heard her laugh before. The sound was _beautiful_…

0101010

Joe ignored the little smirk Will gave him when he arrived in Magnus' office with Aleka an hour later. Ashley and Henry were already there, Henry tapping away rapidly on his computer tablet and Ashley, sporting a black eye and cut lip, peering over his shoulder studying its contents.

When she saw Joe staring, she shrugged. "One of my contacts last night didn't want to be forthcoming."

"I… see…" he answered, pulling out his phone to check his messages.

"Any luck?" Aleka asked Ashley.

"Well, no one reports seeing a Siren, but if our guy's had his wings removed…" She shrugged. "I _can_ tell you that there's no one new on the scene living in any of the known abnormal enclaves."

"So it's fair to assume the Unsub is Passing," Will said. "Which is going to make him a lot harder to find."

"Not necessarily," Joe offered, reading his email off the phone's screen. "You were right about the victimology, Will. Two of our known victims go to the same church and the third works at the same library as one of them. We were looking at the employment angle, but it never occurred to us to check church attendance."

"Great," Ashley said, climbing to her feet. "I'll go case out both locations for you."

Joe frowned at her. "Looking like that, you're going to raise some eyebrows hanging around a church."

"I've been doing this job for more than five years. I know how to cover cuts and bruises with makeup. Give Henry the names; I'll go get changed."

"Need company?" Henry offered.

Ashley turned to face him, looking mildly affronted. "You think I need backup to ask around at a _church_?"

"Not so much backup as someone to remind you that certain tactics are a little less acceptable with church ladies than with members of the abnormal underground," he answered, grinning. "Besides, if they've got wireless, I can hack in and get their membership and employment rosters."

"Good deal," she answered, nodding. "Get the names and addresses from Joe and meet me in the garage in twenty."

"See you there," he agreed as she left.

After Ashley left, Joe frowned at Henry. "If they have internet at all, shouldn't you be able to hack in remotely from here?"

Henry grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, but Ashley doesn't know that. And she doesn't need to."

"Just give him the addresses, Joe," Will advised, grinning. "Sometimes she needs a chaperone. Henry's been living with her long enough to know when."

"Ashley Magnus _sometimes_ needs a chaperone?" Aleka asked, chuckling and shaking her head. "That's not how I heard it…"

"Yeah," Henry answered, shrugging, "but you know how James likes to exaggerate about the Magnus women."

"True," she admitted, grinning at him.

Joe wrote the addressed down for Henry, along with the name of the pastor at the church and the library HR contact, giving him his own phone number as well.

"If you need anything," he told Henry firmly. "The department probably already has people out taking statements, so if you run afoul of them, just give me a call and I'll smooth things over for you."

"Thanks, man. I'll stay in touch, let you know what we find. See you, Will. Aleka." Nodding to each of them, he left the study.

"The victimology's interesting," Will noted.

"How so?" Aleka asked.

"Serial killers generally target the vulnerable, the disenfranchised, people living on the margins. Picking off churchgoers and librarians is going to raise attention a hell of a lot faster. I'm assuming all these victims were reported missing before the remains were found?"

"Yeah." Joe nodded. "One woman was at work, clocked out, and never made it to her car. Our male victim was grocery shopping when he was taken, car and cell phone still in the store lot. Victim three might have been out clubbing, but none of her friends really seem to know for sure since her car was found at home."

"So at least two and possibly all three are high-risk abductions," Will sighed.

"_Not_ high-risk," Aleka corrected him, shaking her head. "I think we established last night that it would not be difficult for a Siren to convince a person to get into their car with them. Most especially not if the killer were known to all three victims."

"Valid point," Joe agreed.

"Prostitutes and the homeless would still draw far less attention," Will maintained. "Within his comfort zone or not, his choice of victims _says_ something. This guy's cocky, thinks he's invincible, untouchable."

"And he has a point," Aleka told him. "The cops could find him at the scene covered in the victim's blood with a bad case of indigestion, and he'd be able to convince them that he was innocent and should be allowed to go on his way."

"So how are we supposed to _catch_ him?" Joe asked. "If, once we find him, he can convince us he's not dangerous?"

"He can't convince _me_," she answered grimly. "My brain's not wired that way."

"Henry's also been working on something that might temporarily cancel out a Siren's ability to influence behavior and emotion by distorting sound waves," Will added. "With luck, by the time we find our suspect, he'll have an operational prototype for us."

"Great," Joe said. "Look, I'm scheduled to interview one of the victim's roommates today. One of you want to come with?"

"Might be better if we both did," Will said.

"No." Aleka shook her head. "One of the two of us will need to remain at the Sanctuary to coordinate between our various operatives. Will, I'd like to suggest that _you_ stay. You work better with Helen and I have more insight into what our killer might be like, which means I should probably be the one to sit in on the witness interview."

"Sounds reasonable," Will agreed. "Joe, you okay with that?"

"Yeah, as long as there's at least one in the know shrink onsite."

"Good deal," Will agreed, looking up as Magnus entered the office. He instantly jumped to his feet. "Magnus, are you okay?"

"Helen, you look like death warmed over," Aleka added, approaching her. "What is it, dear?"

"Nothing, Ali." Magnus smiled and shook her head. "It was simply a long night. Steve's in the middle of a rather painful molt, so I sat up with him."

"Ah," Aleka answered, grasping Magnus' upper arms and drawing her close. "Come here."

"Thank you, dear," Magnus answered, stepping into Aleka's open arms with a grateful smile.

The Siren whispered in Magnus' ear and the woman instantly relaxed, smiling and closing her eyes. Aleka kept murmuring in her ear and Magnus _let_ her, until her knees went limp and it took both Aleka, and Will who sprang forward at the first sign of the older woman's knees going, to hold her upright.

"She's fine," Aleka assured both men as she and Will arranged Magnus on the couch. "She'll be up and around again in less than five minutes feeling as if she's just slept for twelve hours."

"You think you could record that spiel?" Will asked, grinning up at her. "Because I have some nights where I could use a treatment like that."

"I'll make you a copy," she agreed readily. "Standard insomnia or related to PTSD?"

"Post-traumatic stress," he answered.

"I'll burn you an MP3," she promised.

Will grinned. "Thanks."

"My pleasure. Are you in regular treatment?"

"Intermittent."

"I'll leave you my phone number. PTSD is my specialty. I'm sure I can be of great assistance."

"That where your imitation of an Ex trip comes in handy?"

"Research indicates it's helpful." She shrugged. "My patients certainly find it so. Research aside, personal experience shows that the ability to discuss a trauma without a powerfully negative emotional reaction is _intensely_ useful in resolving the patient's issues surrounding that trauma."

Will considered this for a moment. "I'll look into the research on the therapeutic use of Ex and get back to you on that one."

Aleka grinned. "You do that, Will." She winked at him, then turned her attention to Magnus on the couch, feeling for her pulse. "Yes, she'll be awake any moment now."

And so it was. Magnus jerked awake with a gasp that was almost a cry, shooting into a sitting position and staring around the room frantically.

"_Easy_ now, Helen," Aleka murmured, grasping her shoulder. "Just take a few deep breaths. Your brain-chemistry's all out of whack, but that's going to pass exceedingly soon," she soothed. "Let it happen, let the neurotransmitters do their thing."

She closed her eyes, nodding and drawing a deep breath. "Mmm, thank you, Ali. That _does_ feel better, yes. How long will I be able to function?"

"You should be good for a full day, as long as you sleep tonight."

Magnus smiled and sat up, stretching and cracking her neck. "Ah, my thanks, Ali. Your ministrations are better than a shot of Provigil."

"My pleasure." The Siren smiled at Magnus and straightened again.

"Where were we?" Magnus asked.

Will briefed her on the new developments and Magnus nodded her acceptance of what he had to say.

"I think interviewing friends of the victims is the best way to proceed for now," she agreed.

"Joe and Aleka plan on taking care of that today," Will told her.

"Splendid." Magnus smiled and nodded, climbing to her feet. She did not sway, did not look remotely fatigued. "Here's our course of action for now."

Joe listened, nodding along as she spoke. The men and women of the Sanctuary may not have been cops, but they were clearly competent in dealing with criminal cases. When Magnus was done outlining the day's course of action, she dismissed them and all three left the office without another word, ready to do exactly as directed in the interest of closing the case.

Just like _real_ cops…


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Ali, about last night," Joe began as they drove, clearing his throat.

"It _happened_. It was lovely and I would do it again. But none of that translates into a commitment, Joe. I live in the UK. It's hardly feasible to expect the arrangement to continue."

"Yeah, but…"

She shook her head. "It was something we both needed at the time, nicely therapeutic but not dreadfully significant."

Joe stared at her despite the fact that he damned well should have been staring at the road. "Therapeutic?" he repeated.

"Sex alters brain-chemistry which alters mood and emotion. I needed to forget and you needed comfort." She smiled warmly at him. "Not that I'm saying that it wasn't great or that I'm not very fond of you. Because it was great and I am tremendously fond of you, Joe. But we're both adult enough to know that it's not practical to expect anything to come of a relationship."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Sirens live a long time. I couldn't grow old with you," she answered quietly, turning her head to stare out the passenger window. "But I hope we can still be friends."

"Well, _yeah_. Of course."

"Good. I'm glad."

He smiled. "So, you said you had a boyfriend back in London?"

She laughed. "Trust me, Joe. James is no boy!"

He frowned. "Strange name for a girl."

She shook her head. "James is most decidedly of the masculine persuasion." Which seemed to amuse her even more for some reason. "I was commenting on his age," she explained. "I like older men."

"Oh. You wouldn't have struck me as the type to have a sugar-daddy, but if it works for you…" He shrugged.

"Some sugar-daddy." She shook her head with a rueful expression. "James most decidedly makes me earn my keep, Joe. I'm his Second in Command. He demands more from me than from anyone there other than himself. The fact that we sleep together is completely incidental to our professional relationship."

"How can something like that not affect your relationship?"

"Quite easily," she assured him. "Sirens are genetically predisposed to seek out powerful mates capable of providing for and protecting them. James is simply a logical choice in that regard. For a Siren, love simply does not enter into the equation. And, for his part, James is _madly_ in love. Just not with me." She shrugged.

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"It troubles me greatly, to be quite honest. But only because I don't like to see him hurting. If he loved someone capable of returning his love, that would be a different matter and I'd naturally be quite pleased for him."

"Huh." He considered this. "Sounds like life at the Sanctuary is one big love-fest."

"Not nearly to the extent it was during the late sixties. _Those_ were good years for me," she laughed.

He grinned at that, then actually _thought_ about it for a second. The woman didn't look a day over 25.

"You were around and old enough to be sexually active in the sixties?"

She smirked. "If I do say so myself, I'm pretty hot for a 93 year old."

"Uh, yeah…" He shook his head. Weird. Then something else hit him. "Wait, didn't you say this James guy was _older_ than you?"

She laughed. "I was wondering if you'd pick up on that. James is quite simply a genius. He devised a method to filter his body of toxins which considerably decelerates his natural aging process."

"That's amazing. Why wouldn't you people share that with the rest of the world?"

"Aside from the obvious damage that overpopulation would cause to an already precarious ecosystem?" She smiled. "We shared it with the world in the form of _dialysis_, Joe. James worked quite closely with Willem in the 1940s to make sure he got it right. Humanitarian enough for you?"

"Sorry. Wasn't trying to be judgmental, I just… How can you have so much knowledge and keep it all secret?"

"Mostly with bribes and disinformation." She shrugged and shook her head. "Joe, let me tell you something they didn't teach you at the Academy. The _only_ thing more dangerous than a little knowledge is too much knowledge. Weapons of Mass Destruction are a case-in-point of science being twisted to run contrary to everything it actually stands for. We will **not** allow that to happen with the secrets we hold. Because, some of the things we know? Some of it makes splitting the atom look small, Joe."

"Jesus, Ali," he whispered.

"Yes," she agreed, nodding.

"I couldn't live like that," he told her.

"Not many can," Aleka answered with a shrug. "Which is one more reason to keep the bulk of our work secret."

"If it hadn't been for these murders, you people never would have told me anything about any of this, would you?"

"It seems unlikely. Under different circumstances, not even these murders would have been sufficient cause to allow you access into our world. No." She shook her head. "Will and Helen see something in you or you would still be completely in the dark."

"Uh, Will said he's pretty sure Doctor Magnus suspected he was an abnormal when he was eight years old and that she's been keeping track of him ever since. You don't think they think _I'm_ an abnormal?"

"I'm inclined to doubt it or Helen would probably already have asked to run tests on you. Most likely, they just see you as an excellent detective with a very open mind."

"Huh." He nodded and pulled the car into a driveway. "Victim one, Marissa Howard, librarian and churchgoer. This is the house she shared with her 'roommate' Charity Zelazny."

"You think they were more than roommates?"

"That's my thinking. They've been living together since they were college roommates, almost 15 years now and, according to friends and coworkers, neither's ever dated. That doesn't sound like 'just friends' to me."

"No, it doesn't," she agreed. "But if there were closeted lovers, and both _extremely_ religious from what I'm seeing in the case file, rubbing her nose in the fact that you suspect isn't going to make you any friends. She's going to be emotionally volatile anyway, Joe. I'm going to have to ask you to let me take Point on this interview."

"Have you done this kind of thing before?"

"Never in the States, but I can't imagine your procedures are _that_ different from the Yard's."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding. "Let's go."

Charity came out to greet them as they went up the walk towards the porch, meeting them in the yard. She was small and plump, not pretty but with a good-natured face, pale except for the red blotches on her cheeks that suggested she'd been crying quite recently.

"Is one of you Detective Kavanaugh?" she asked, flashing them a sad, anxious little smile. In pain or not, when she smiled she _was_ pretty, and not just on a physical level.

"That would be me," he agreed, displaying his badge for her inspection. "This is Doctor Aleka Pappas who's assisting us in constructing a profile. She has a few questions for you."

"Anything I can do to help," she agreed. "Please, come inside. Can I offer you anything? Tea? Or lemonade if you prefer? It's homemade. I just took cookies out of the oven and there are rice krispie treats as well. It's nowhere near time for lunch, but if you'd like something more substantial I can make omelets or French toast. There's bacon…"

"It's okay, Miss Zelazny," Joe told her gently, taking her arm and steering her inside.

He recognized her type. A complete homebody, rambling out of nervousness and trying to find some stability by falling into a familiar role. She was _terrified_ right now. It could have been a general sense of vulnerability at losing her best friend and maybe-lover. It could also mean she had already worked out that the killer probably knew them. She might even have a damned good suspicion of who the killer was and be afraid she would be next if she weren't careful.

"The homemade lemonade sounds delightful," Aleka told her as they entered the house. "And I'm sure Joe wouldn't say no to a few of those rice krispie squares you mentioned."

Charity gave a quick nod, looking grateful. "I'll just go get them."

When she left the room, Aleka drew close to Joe, murmuring, "She's going to bear _very_ careful handling, but I think she may have what we need."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," he murmured back.

"Follow my lead. She's skittish. If we ask the wrong question too soon, she'll panic and withdraw."

"Okay," he agreed.

"I won't be eating the rice krispie squares. If she notices, tell her I'm gluten-intolerant."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to appear impolite and I think that excuse might be a little less unsettling than 'I'm a man-eating carnivore'."

Joe stared at her with wide eyes and whispered, "Good point."

Charity returned to the living room, stopping and staring at the two of them with wide, apprehensive eyes. Paranoid, afraid they'd been talking about her behind her back. Worried about what conclusions they may have reached.

Aleka defused the situation like an impression management pro. She grinned up at Joe and planted a chaste kiss on his mouth before turning to Charity.

"Not dreadfully professional, I know," she 'apologized'. "But you know how it is when two people have only just found each other. You just want to say 'be damned with the rules' and enjoy being together."

Joe resisted the urge to nod his approval of this tactic. Not only had the psychologist made a clear statement that they had not been in the process of _judging_ Charity, she had also managed to make it clear that they didn't have problems with relationships that might deviate from what most people considered 'acceptable'.

"Please, sit down. Make yourself comfortable," Charity urged, gesturing to the couch and putting the tray with ice-filled glasses, a pitcher of lemonade, and a plate of cookies and rice krispie treats down on the coffee table.

"We'd just like to start by offering you our condolences on Miss Howard's death," Joe told her as he sat down. "From everything I've read about her in the files, she was an extraordinary woman."

Charity smiled at that, sitting down in an armchair next to the couch. "She was something special, I always said so. She was just so passionate about everything, especially her volunteering."

"An adult literacy tutor, yes?" Aleka asked.

"That's right."

"Was that through the church or the library, if you don't mind?"

"Both. Mari set it up that way so she could get more volunteers onboard. You know, not just religious people who want to make a difference, but the people at the library who were just so passionate about learning in general."

"Sounds like the kind of woman to think of everything."

"Always." She smiled and shook her head. "I always swore I would have lost my own head if it weren't attached, but Mari was the exact opposite. Never missed a trick." Her smiled faded slightly, her expression pained.

"Was she one of those librarians who knew the Dewey Decimal System by heart?" Aleka asked, smiling.

Charity's face broke into a wide grin. "How did you know?"

"She's smart and she's passionate about knowledge. I know a man who's the same way. He had one _hell_ of an impact on my life during a time when I hated myself terribly. He came along and picked up the pieces, gave me purpose and direction, helped me not be afraid of the idea of a Higher Power. James quite literally saved my soul," she told Charity. "He's the reason I am where I am today."

Charity's smile was sad, but her expression was one of complete understanding.

"Is that how it was with you and Mari?"

"I would have flunked out of college my freshman year without her and… well, she showed me that it was okay to be the way I am."

"A feeling I can more than relate to," Aleka answered before Joe could pursue the relationship angle. "Will you tell me about the Mari you knew? It would be therapeutic for you and could help us catch her killer."

"I forgive the killer, I _do_," she said firmly. "God tells us to hate the sin but still love the sinner. But he shouldn't be allowed to do this again, either, hurt more people. What do you need to know?"

Aleka was thorough, Joe had to give her that. Almost two hours into the Q&A he cleared his throat.

"Are we profiling the killer here, Ali, or the victim?"

"We're profiling both, Joe. Because, no offense, this case won't be solved with forensics and legwork. It's going to live and die by the victimology. That's the _only_ way we're going to resolve this thing."

He held up both hands. "Right. Sorry to interrupt."

She smiled at him and got back to questioning Charity. Forty or forty-five minutes later, she abruptly jumped to her feet. To Joe, she looked like death warmed over: dead pale with dark smudges under her eyes, face literally _dripping_ sweat, breathing fast and shallow.

"Well, I think that's all I need to construct my profile. Thank you very much, Miss Zelazny. I'll be in touch if I have any further questions and, if you personally need anything at all, you can contact me at this number." She handed her a business card. "Again, our condolences for your loss. Be strong. We'll get this bastard. Please excuse me."

With those words, she turned and left the living room at a run. Joe stared after her in alarm, climbing to his own feet.

"I'm sorry. I don't think Doctor Pappas feels too well. I should go see what's going on."

"Of course. Thank you both. Good luck."

Joe found Aleka standing next to the car, hands braced against the hood as she bent over, struggling to breath.

"What's going on?" he asked, grabbing her shoulder.

She flinched away, spinning on him with wide eyes, her face twisted in a really damned creepy combination of pain and lust.

"_Don't __**touch**__ me!_" she snarled and Joe found himself backing away against his will. He wasn't sure if she had used the Voice on him to make that happen or not, but he knew enough to be scared.

"Aleka, I need you to take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong," he told her firmly. "We'll get you through this, whatever it is, but I need you to let me help you, okay? What's happening?"

"What's happening?" She let out a bitter laugh. "What's happening is that I'm hungry, Joe," she answered, eying him with a look that made it quite clear that _he_ was on the menu.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Okay, Ali, baby, I need you to just remain _calm_," he urged, wishing he'd gotten around to taking his recertification in negotiation. Something told him he was going to need it…

"I skipped breakfast," she panted, shaking her head. "Shouldn't have been a problem, but then the interview ran long…"

"So now you're two meals down?"

A frantic nod. "Listen to me very carefully," she told him, every word a pained gasp. "Do not make any sudden moves; do not turn your back on me. There is a sedative in the glove-box, looks like an epi pen. You need to get it and give it to me and then you need to get me back to the Sanctuary, _fast_. Maintain eye contact at all times. Averting your gaze is a sign of weakness, passivity, and vulnerability. I will pick up on those things and I will have no choice but to attack you. Now get the sedative!"

Joe nodded and started towards the car, slowly and cautiously. Aleka turned to watch him go and he did as directed, maintaining eye contact along the way.

His second or third week on his first solo Beat, he had come face to face with a rabid dog. The attack had left him needing forty-seven stitches on his arm and a long, painful series of rabies shots. He had been terrified then, but that experience had _nothing_ on this one. For one thing, the look on Aleka's face said 'I want to rip you to pieces' a lot more than that dog's had.

Aleka could smell his fear, too, he was sure of that from the way her nostrils flared, the way she seemed to savor whatever she was smelling. She swayed on her feet as she watched him move, smiling in anticipation.

"You could forget the tranquilizer," she pointed out, her voice as smoothly seductive as it had been in bed the night before. "Strange as it may sound, it's a fun way to die, Joe…"

"But I don't want to die, Ali," he answered quietly, opening the car door. "Not yet."

"I could _make_ you come to me."

"If that was what you really wanted, I would already be dead," he pointed out, reaching into the car and popping the glove compartment. "Just keep fighting. You're doing fine, Ali." Constant name-dropping, 'cause that wasn't a negotiation-tactic at all…

She nodded. "Get it quickly, Joe. I can't fight this much longer."

Not taking his eyes from hers, he fumbled blindly in the glove compartment until he found the injector by feel. He closed his hand around it and then straightened, clutching it tightly.

"I have it, Ali. Come here. Let me help you."

She gave a shaky nod and took a jerky step forward, pushing up her sleeve as she went.

"Good." Joe smiled reassuringly at her, then glanced down at the injector to see how it worked.

"_**Idiot!"**_ she howled.

She slammed into him and he was knocked to the ground, barely managed to keep his hold on the injector. The Siren was on top of him with a snarl, baring teeth _considerably_ sharper than he remembered from kissing her. He raised his arm defensively when she went for his throat and felt a sharp pain there instead. His head swam and his vision doubled, physical warmth and emotional contentment washing over him in a way vaguely reminiscent of high-dose morphine.

He wasn't sure where he found the strength, but he managed to raise the hand with the injector and jam it into her back, near the right shoulder. He heard the hiss of the drug being released and Aleka collapsed on top of him, the jaw that had been locked around his forearm going slack.

"Jesus," he breathed, struggling to catch his breath.

And to stay awake.

For a man who had just come close to getting eaten alive by a lover, he felt pretty damned _good_. A little euphoric and a lot turned on. Her weight on his supine body felt great; there was no denying that. He could have stayed that way forever. But, eventually, he forced himself to pull out his cell phone and find the number he needed.

"Zimmerman," Will answered his phone.

"Hey, man. Look, I've got a situation here. Ali's unconscious and I don't think she's going to be safe to be around when she wakes up. And I am, uh, _way_ too messed up to drive. I need someone out here to get us both to the Sanctuary ASAP, because I don't think it would be good for my job to be found in this position." He giggled.

A short pause. "She's unconscious?"

"I had to sedate her, but I don't know how long that'll last. She implied it wouldn't be long."

"I'm already out the door. Stay on the line, Joe. I'm right here, but I need you to _stay with me_. Can you do that for me, Joe?"

"I don't know. Uh, I haven't lost much blood, but I'm still getting pretty light-headed here."

"How badly are you injured?"

"She bit my arm up is all."

"Doesn't sound too terrible. But I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"

"I'll do my best." He yawned. "Am I dying?"

"No, but coma isn't unheard of with Siren venom, so I need you to stay awake," he repeated more firmly.

"So many things make _sense_ now, Will…" He sighed softly. "I'm sorry I ever gave you shit. You were a fantastic profiler, just insanely dedicated. You deserved better than any of us ever gave you."

"Don't start making your goodbyes yet, Joe," Will ordered. "Siren venom's psychoactive but not fatal. So just be strong and stay with me."

"I don't _want_ to be strong. This feels good. I want to give in to it."

"No, Joe! Damn it, fight it, man!" Will snapped, sounding frantic.

"But why, Will?"

"Because it isn't real, Joe. And 'not real' is not enough. Not for men like you. So you fight it. Because that's the person you are."

"There's perverse logic in your argument, Zimmerman."

"Not perverse, Joe. Based on observation. I've seen you in action; I know how your mind works."

"Do you ever _not_ profile?"

"No, Joe. Because, most of the time, that's the only way I can understand the people around me. I've never been social, only analytic. Ninety-nine percent of the time, profiling a person is as close as I'm ever going to come to forming a true connection with them."

"Jesus, Will, you must be so lonely…"

Lying on the ground with an unconscious monster sprawled on top of him, discussing feelings with a shrink he had thought completely nuts only a few months ago. Perfectly reasonable.

"I'll admit to sometimes feeling _separate_, but I am not alone, Joe. No one is, not once they embrace this world and this world embraces them. And now that includes you. So you just hang tight."

"How can you even think of being nice to me after all the shit I gave you when you still worked for the Department?"

"You didn't know; you didn't understand. You thought you were doing me a favor, warning me to back down from my fringe positions. You didn't bear me any active dislike in spite of everything. You thought I was nuts but you were still kind to me. That makes you good people in my book, Joe Kavanaugh."

There wasn't much he could say in answer to that.

"Joe! You still with me, man?"

"Tired, Will. Not really thinking straight."

"Okay, but I need you to stay awake for me. I'll be there before long, but I don't want you falling asleep in the meantime. Talk to me, Joe. Um… tell me about all the interesting shit I've missed at the Department since I left. Can you do that?"

Joe laughed. "Did you hear about Santos and Johansen?"

"No. Tell me, Joe."

Joe started talking, interrupted only by Will's occasional words of encouragement to continue. He knew full well that he was rambling, but Will wanted him to keep going so he did.

Until he heard a gentle, "Joe, open your eyes for me."

He did and found himself staring up at Will. He smiled. "Hey, man! How you doing?"

"Better than you," Will answered, kneeling next to him. A needle was produced and the psychiatrist emptied it into Aleka's arm. He felt her pulse for a moment, then rested his hand against Joe's throat, presumably doing the same. "How are you feeling?"

"Good."

"Euphoric?"

"Pretty much," he agreed, lifting his hand to cover Will's. "You're good people, too, Zimmerman."

Will shook his head. "If the next words out of your mouth are 'I love you, man' I am _out_ of here. Understood?"

Joe laughed and nodded. "No male bonding while I'm strung out on Siren spit, check."

The psychiatrist smiled at him and flashed a light in his eyes, then rolled Aleka off him and checked her over. Then he snapped on a pair of gloves and examined Joe's arm, hastily bandaging it.

"Okay, I'm still going to need you to stay awake for me, but I'm comfortable declaring you both fit for transport. So let's get you back to the Sanctuary. Okay?"

"Will!" He caught the other man's arm. "She said she missed two meals, breakfast this morning and lunch this afternoon."

"Understood. I texted Magnus and she'll be ready with nutrients for her. There won't be any permanent damage from this," he promised. "But hopefully you'll have learned your lesson about skipping breakfast just to get a little extra play."

Joe remained on the ground laughing as Will transferred Aleka into the back seat of the car. The absurdity of the whole situation hit him all at once and all he could do was lay there giggling helplessly.

"It's not that funny," Will told him with a tolerant smile, hauling Joe to his feet and helping him into the passenger seat. "You are completely stoned, my friend."

"And it feels _good_!"

Will shook his head again. "Thus the appeal for druggies."

He slammed the car door and circled to the driver's side, slipping behind the wheel and glancing sideways at Joe. "You were telling me about the latest theatrics between Price and Pierce," he prompted.

"You don't give a shit about either guy," Joe protested.

"No," Will agreed. "But I do give a shit about _you_, so keep talking."

"You haven't gotten any less pushy since you left."

"No. If anything, I've gotten more pushy. Because, these days, I actually care about my patients. So keep talking for me, Joe."

0101010

Joe woke with a splitting headache. "Oh, good Lord," he moaned.

"The headache will pass," a low voice assured him. "But I've been authorized to give you something for pain if you'd like."

"Ali." He opened one eye cautiously. Ridiculous to be like this with her when her quick and analytic thinking had saved his ass when she went off the deep end, but there you were. Aleka Pappas was a dangerous predator and there was no use in forgetting the fact. "Are you… _you_ again?"

"Joe I am sorrier than I can say." She shook her head, expression mortified and frankly ashamed.

"You don't eat for 18 hours and that happens to you? I'm kinda starting to see where our serial-killer is coming from."

"Having the desire is **no** excuse for _indulging_ it. How's your arm?"

Joe examined his forearm. "How many stitches?"

"Eighteen. I'm sorry."

"I've had worse," he assured her.

"I noticed," she murmured, lightly stroking the old scars near his elbow. "Dog?"

"Yeah. She was rabid. Good dog, from what I heard after, not a mean bone in her body. Just wrong place, wrong time. Mixed it up with a raccoon and nothing was the same for her after that."

"What happened to her?"

"I had to put three bullets in her brain."

"Thank you for not doing that to me."

"I didn't have to. You gave me the tools and advice to do otherwise." He forced himself to sit up. "You've put a lot of thought into what happens if you get…"

"Hungry," she finished for him, nodding. "I could hardly ignore the possibility that something like this might happen one day. I've carried those tranqs around since James first started treating me."

"A fact that probably saved my life today. You okay, Ali?"

She sighed and shrugged, looking away. "A little ashamed. I should know better by now."

He reached up and caught her hand. "I'm the kind of guy who focuses on work to the point where I'll forget to eat for two or three days in a row. Which is _insane_ given the fact that I'm borderline diabetic. It sometimes even affects my mood and behavior." He told her. "Which means I'm in no position to judge you."

"Mmm," she answered, shaking her head. "It was unforgivable of me. I don't eat regularly, I become a threat to every human being around me. At that point, there's a reasonable expectation that I make sure to have four meals a day. Your blood sugar gets low, Joe, and you yell at someone who doesn't deserve it. It happens to me and someone dies."

"Yet, today, in the grip of that nightmare, you talked me through subduing you, through keeping myself alive. Not so monstrous, Ali."

"I tasted your blood and I _liked_ it!"

"I don't give a shit." He shook his head. "You're intelligent and kind and _decent_! You didn't kill me when you damned well could have. Even in the grip of something horrible, you rose above."

"It isn't that simple. I will never forget how you taste. You're _prey_ now. It doesn't matter how much blood Helen plies me with, how many pills I take, how many protein shakes I force myself to endure. I know and I remember. You taste good, Joe, and I want more…"

"Does that mean you're verging on falling off the wagon?"

"I forgot about life on the wagon the instant your blood touched my tongue. I'll need to start over from Step One now." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. My priority is still solving this case."

"Which we will do, Ali. Later. Tell me how they made you better today."

"You don't want to know."

"Tell me," he repeated more firmly.

Not looking at him, she quietly explained, "I had to drink what was essentially a cow-muscle milkshake, mega-dose on several dozen different vitamins, take numerous antipsychotics, and consume six units of human blood. I should go now. I need to finish constructing that profile."

"Ali…"

"No." She shook her head. "I have a job to do, Joe. Please excuse me."

Joe started to follow her but didn't even get into a full sitting position before the room started spinning so badly he thought he might hurl. Sighing, he lay back and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths and waiting for the dizziness to pass.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Joe tried to relax. Which would have been a _lot_ easier if his arm hadn't ached so much and his vertigo hadn't been so bad.

"How are you feeling?" Will asked, entering the infirmary.

"Dizzy as hell."

"Still? I'll give you another dose of antivenom," he answered, going to the drug cabinet. "Arm still hurting? I think you can have more pain meds here in a few minutes."

"I've had worse. I think I can handle the pain if you can just make the room stop spinning for a minute."

Will nodded and emptied a syringe into Joe's bicep. After a moment, the dizziness started to fade.

Joe sighed. "Thanks, man. That's a lot better."

"No problem. You holding up okay?"

"Last night I had the most incredible sex imaginable with a creature straight out of Greek mythology. She turned around and tried to cannibalize me today even though she's an example of a halfway decent member of her species. I've got a serial killer eating victims alive, one who isn't _human_, one who shouldn't even _**exist**_. I've suddenly been thrust into the realization that there's this whole freaking reality out there that I never even _imagined_, full of supernatural creatures, myths, and monster." He shook his head and admitted, "I don't know how you do this."

"It gets easier," the younger man promised, grabbing a chair and drawing it closer to Joe's bed. "I was really surprised how fast acceptance came."

"Jesus, Will. This is _insane_…"

"I once had this foster mother. She would always quote a George Carlin paraphrase of what I think was an old Bible story, trying to make me feel better about being different. But it doesn't really matter where it came from because I think that, no matter where it came from, it's God's own truth."

Joe sighed. "Lay it on me."

Will exhaled deeply, then pronounced, "Those who dance are considered insane by those who can't hear the music."

He stared. That was… sappy. And, while probably accurate, more than a little trippy given Will's reputation for perceiving things other people couldn't. "And that's you now? You hear the music?"

"Hear it and dance to it at times," Will agreed, shrugging. "You need to deal, Joe. This is _huge_. It's bigger than either of us, bigger than the whole worldwide Sanctuary organization. And that can be pretty terrifying at times. But there are other times when it is humbling and awe-inspiring and straight up amazing to behold. It's not all bad and ugly, and it's not even _mostly_ that. Yes, everything society has ever told us was a lie. But that realization doesn't really turn anything on its head because the same general rules still apply."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "If you say so, Will."

"They _do_, Joe. You still have bad people and good people and bad things happening to good people. But, like with every crime, it can be solved if you just understand the facts of the case."

"Guess so," he agreed. "Hey, uh, thanks for earlier. Sorry if I came across as too weird or flaky or anything."

Will chuckled. "What is it about guys that we're ashamed of expressing our emotions even when we're expressing them while completely strung out?"

"Damned if I know," Joe laughed, shrugging. "But emotions do have a habit of complicating things."

"Tell me about it," Will answered with an expressive look.

"Helen?" he guessed.

Will smiled and shook his head. "It's not like that. It is, however, all kinds of complicated."

"Why?"

"She was there the night my mother died," he reminded Joe. "She saved my life."

He stared. "Jesus."

"Yeah. Makes it hard to figure out how much of the respect and awe and love are coming from Will Zimmerman the man and how much of all that's coming from that terrified kid."

"I can see where that would bother you of all people."

He shrugged. "I dissect minds for a living yet I can't figure out what's going on in my own."

"Nobody's perfect."

"No," Will agreed quietly.

"I think I'd like to see the SHU now, Will."

He frowned. "Are you sure?"

"I have questions that need answers."

"You still don't trust us."

"Not really. Can you honestly blame me for that?"

"No. But it's stand-up that you haven't tried to blow our cover yet."

"Don't decide I'm being noble. You're a forensic shrink. You can't afford to be that trusting."

"I never said I trusted you." Will considered Joe for a long moment before continuing. "You recognize that bringing down an operation of this size will take a great deal of planning and coordination. You'll pretend to play along until you're in a position to undermine us."

Well, no one had ever accused Will of being stupid. "Gonna tell your boss?"

"What makes you think she hasn't already figured it out on her own? Sleeping with Aleka was a nice touch, makes you seem more accepting of the whole situation. But, no, all three of us know you can't be trusted yet."

Joe winced at the suggestion that his involvement with Ali was only strategic. He had honestly not even _considered_ that angle when he went to bed with her. "That make me a prisoner?"

"No." Will shook his head. "You're free to come and go. In spite of what you may think, kidnapping is _not_ our thing."

"Show me the SHU."

Will sighed and nodded. "Can you walk?"

"I think so," Joe answered, gingerly climbing to his feet. When the room didn't spin too badly, he nodded to Will. "I think I'm good."

"You want a sling for that arm?" he offered.

"That fine." He shook his head. "I'd rather keep mobility. With where the stitches are, nothing going to tear just because I move my arm wrong."

"And you don't want anything for the pain?" Will asked, staring at the bites and stitches.

"Couple Ibuprofen if you have them?"

Will handed Joe a bottle and got him a cup of water. Joe thanked him and took the pills, then gestured for Will to proceed him from the room.

0101010

"I should warn you, some of the stuff down here is pretty nasty," Will told Joe as he keyed in the code to get into the SHU.

"Nastier than everything I've been through so far?"

"Some of it," the psychiatrist answered, expression apologetic. "You sure about this? Ashley nearly got killed down here once…"

"You don't have your prisoners _secured_?"

"As secure as we can keep them, but things happen. Even in regular prisons."

"True," Joe admitted, following him inside. He was surprised. "More habitats? I thought it would just be cells."

"A lot of the habitats are specialized for the health and well-being of the occupant. Some actually need it and some just find it easier to cope this way. We do what we can to keep everyone here comfortable, even those we wouldn't necessarily want to follow into a dark alley."

He walked to one of the huge windows, peering down into what looked like the floor of an ancient pine-forest. There were piles of needles, half-decayed stumps, ferns everywhere, and ill-lit with tendrils of fog curling through it all.

"What's down here?"

"Canis dirus, one of the less dangerous residents on this level." At Joe's look, Will clarified, "She's a dire wolf, supposedly wiped out during the Pleistocene Extinction. She's about five feet long and 150 pounds, mid-weight for the species. Kind of shy, so you probably won't actually _see_ her."

Joe frowned. "So keeping it here is… like a conservation thing?"

"Pretty much. I mean, Magnus was investigating rumors of an Amarok in the area and it turned out to just be a dire wolf. Frightened locals eventually would have killed her, so Magnus brought her here."

Joe nodded and looked down into another cage, this one laid out more like a grassland than a forest. What looked like a gray pig with a mane of fur around its neck stood placidly rooting around in a pile of disturbed earth.

"Yeah, that thing's obviously deadly."

"That's an Ao Ao, Joe," Will told him quietly. "They run faster than cheetahs and subsist exclusively on human flesh. Once one has you in its sights, it won't stop until you're in its stomach. If you climb a tree to escape it, it just knocks the tree over and resumes pursuit. Assuming you're still up to running away."

"Uh…"

"Looks deceive." Will led him to another cage holding what looked like an anteater. "Don't get too close to the glass. The mental attack from a Baku makes Freddie Kruger look like an amateur. The psychic shockwave hits you at right on and you'll be afraid to sleep for two or three weeks minimum."

"It's an anteater."

"Yeah, that was my initial reaction to it, too. Then I had to treat the team who brought it in." Will shuddered, looking more troubled than Joe had ever seen him from working with simple deranged serial killers.

"How messed up were they?"

"One of them killed himself. Two others will probably be in a mental hospital for life. The other's young enough that she might recover in a few years."

Joe looked at the 'anteater' again, shaking his head. "Nothing here's what it seems, is it?"

"Not much," Will answered quietly. He touched the Detective's arm. "We should go, Joe. We have a case to solve. Aleka's got a tentative profile knocked together."

"Great. Let's go have a look at it."

0101010

"I know it isn't, James," Aleka sighed into the phone as Joe entered the office. "I just want to swallow half a bottle of Plavix and cut my damned femoral." She paused, listening. "No, of course I'm not _going_ to! Don't be an idiot. No, you don't need to fly out. I'm not _that_ fragile." She sighed. "Thanks, James. Look, I need to go. Joe's here; it's probably about the case." She laughed. "Of course, I'm sleeping with him. If you could, you'd be doing the exact same thing and we both know it. He's a well put-together young man. Look, James, I really need to go. Thanks for listening, doll. You take care of yourself." She hung up the phone and smiled weakly up at Joe. "Hi."

"You really weren't kidding about the two of you being casual."

"No," she agreed. "We both have very pragmatic views on sexuality in general."

"That some kind of immortal thing?"

"Let's just say that, after the first seventy or eighty years, things start to get less interesting. So you're always looking for ways to expand your horizons." She shrugged.

"That extend to Helen Magnus?"

"I wouldn't know. She's never offered and I've never had the stones to ask. If you're curious, you should approach her about it yourself. She's had almost as much time as James to work on her technique, so I'm sure it would be a mind blowing experience."

"I don't usually do casual sex."

She smiled. "Then I'm honored you picked me to try it out with."

"You do casual sex, though. And you obviously _want_ to go there with her. I don't buy that you're afraid. What's the real story?" he challenged.

"In confidence?" she asked.

"Of course, Ali." He nodded.

"James is very much in love with Helen, which makes sleeping with her quite probably the only thing that might complicate my relationship with him."

"Ah."

"If you're curious what she's like in bed, Will might know, too."

"He says not."

She frowned. "_Interesting…_"

"Why?"

"Because the nose doesn't lie."

"Uh…" He shook his head, regarding her blankly.

"Never mind, Joe. You needed to discuss the case?"

"He _is_ in love with her, isn't he?"

"Hard to say on the basis of a few stray pheromones. All I can say for sure is that her beauty isn't lost on him. They seem quite comfortable around each other. I don't know Will well enough to know whether that suggests the presence of a physical relationship or the absence of one."

"From what I know of Will, I'd say absence. Which is really kind of beside the point because I came here to ask about your profile."

"By all means. Have a seat."

"Thanks." He sank into a chair. "You really don't like the creepily inappropriate neighbor for our suspect?"

"Absolutely not. I wouldn't be surprised if Harris was good for some sex-crime somewhere, but he's no Siren. To be a Siren is to charm your victim, to make your victim comfortable, put them at ease. Our suspect will be the _opposite_ of Harris. I'm going to need to talk to a lot more witnesses, but I'm honestly leaning towards Reverend Reynolds."

Joe stared at her with wide eyes. "You think a _preacher_ is good for these murders?"

"I'm not knocking the profession, Joe. Merely pointing out that it requires an intensely charismatic sort of individual. I want to meet this Reynolds."

"Detectives have already talked to him, so have Ashley and Henry. No one who's met him thinks he's good for this."

She raised an eyebrow and just stared at him for a moment. Then it occurred to him: psychic influence.

"Ah. I'll make some calls."

"And I will keep digging," she answered, turning her attention towards the computer.

"I was thinking, maybe tonight--"

"Absolutely not," she interrupted, shaking her head. "I know what you taste like now. It's no longer safe for you to be alone with me."

"Ali…"

"No_._" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Joe. I genuinely am. It's just not safe. That is not my self-loathing speaking; it is a professional assessment. Ask Helen and she'll tell you the exact same thing. Aleka Pappas is no longer safe for you to be with in a sexual situation."

He sighed and shook his head. "You know what, I can't believe I'm saying this but I _am_ going to go ask Helen about this."

"You do that. Then get me that appointment with Reynolds."

"I'm on it," he answered, leaving the office and wondering why he was even bothering with a woman who didn't even want a serious relationship with him, wasn't even human, and probably was even more dangerous than she claimed to be.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Joe shook the proffered hand. "Thank you for agreeing to see us, Reverend. This is Doctor Aleka Pappas who's helping on the case."

Aleka inclined her head to the preacher, accepting his hand when he offered it. Her expression was searching, but Joe thought there was no way this guy was a serial killer.

Isaiah Reynolds was tall but gangly. Almost six feet and _maybe_ a hundred and ten pounds. He honestly looked more delicate than anything else. And decidedly bookish, Joe thought. A nice enough guy from the looks of him, but anxious. Not that he didn't have a lot to think about right now with two of his parishioners brutally murdered and others dead as well.

"Will your wife be joining us, Reverend?" Aleka asked quietly, taking the seat he offered her.

"Finn might join us eventually, but she's got pastoral counseling at the moment," he answered. He frowned curiously at Joe. "You aren't a congregant, are you?"

He smiled and shook his head. "I go to Queen of Mercy. But since Sergeant Collins brought in those oatmeal cookies two years ago, I've hit every one of your bake-sales. You probably saw me there."

Reynolds grinned at Joe. "Sally Lawson's oatmeal cookies do have a great many admirers."

"I should like to talk to your wife at some point," Aleka told him. "She probably knows your parishioners almost as well as you do?"

"_Better_, for the most part," he answered cheerfully. "Finn sees being married to me as a Calling in its own right, you see. She takes the happiness of the congregation very seriously, spends a lot of time with our more troubled congregants. Everyone agrees, she can make things better just by talking to you about them."

Joe's eyes widened and he glanced sideways at Aleka who didn't seem remotely surprised.

"I was thinking Finn was an Irish name, but now that I think about it, it's also Greek, isn't it?" the Siren inquired calmly.

He smiled. "That's right, Doctor Pappas."

"I quite look forward to meeting a countrywoman," she told him with a faint smile. "You said Mrs. Reynolds does pastoral counseling. Was she, by chance, counseling Daniel Hughes?"

"Yes."

"_And_ Marissa Howard?"

"That's right." He nodded. "They were both pretty troubled."

"I know of Daniel's issues with substance abuse," Aleka continued. "What had Marissa upset?"

"I'm afraid that's private but, I assure you, it was nothing that could have gotten Missy killed."

Joe glanced sideways at Aleka who honestly looked ready to lunge across the table at Reynolds. He touched her shoulder and shook his head. She scowled but shrugged and gestured for him to take over.

"Reverend Reynolds, if Marissa's problem could _possibly_ be pertinent to the case, we need to know what it was. If she was troubled about her homosexuality, we don't need to go there unless she was engaging in high-risk behaviors."

He shook his head. "Missy was a good girl. And she _loved_ Cheery. They were both quiet. About the most social life either had was Wednesday night Bible Study. There was nothing 'high-risk' about either of them."

"Fair enough," Joe agreed. "But, according to Collins, this is a pretty conservative congregation…"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I told the other police and I'll tell you. The Old Testament is allegory. It's the New Testament that has to be taken into account and that's a book about _love_, Detective. Cheery and Missy didn't flaunt what they shared. No one here had a problem with them."

"If she was the one counseling them, Mrs. Reynolds might be in a better position to know that for sure, Reverend," Aleka pointed out. "I'm really going to have to insist on speaking with her."

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at his watch. "I'll go see if she's free."

Joe waited until he was gone, then leaned towards Aleka. "You think the wife's good?"

"He spends an awful lot of time in very close proximity to a Siren," she answered quietly, tapping her nose. "He reeks of it. It's highly unlikely that the fact that his wife is Greek is a coincidence."

He nodded. "How do we play this?"

"She'll know what I am the minute she walks into the room." She reached into her purse and passed him a Taser. "Just don't use it on the typical or you could cause him permanent amnesia."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Not standard issue, then?"

She shrugged. "Hitting me with a regular Taser would only piss me off and I have a _low_ pain tolerance for a member of my species."

"So, basically unstoppable?"

"Well, no species is entirely invulnerable," she answered. "How's your arm?"

"Not too terrible. Helen gave me some cream that pretty well kills the pain."

"Good, I'm glad. Roll up your sleeve."

"Uh…" He hesitated.

"I need to see how she reacts to the sight of your injury."

"Whoa, Ali. I'm the _bait_?" he asked, rolling up his sleeve anyways.

"Sorry, Joe," she murmured, taking his arm in her hands and lifting it to eye-level. "On the upside, it doesn't even look like this is going to get infected."

"Good to know."

A gasp drew their attention. Finn Reynolds, a dark and statuesque woman in a modest, floor length dress, stood arrested in the doorway, pale and trembling as she stared at Joe. Or, more accurately, at his chewed up arm.

Aleka gave Joe's arm a squeeze before dropping it. "Sorry. My colleague was attacked by a rabid animal yesterday," she explained.

"How very dreadful," she answered, voice shaking.

"Sit down, Finn," Reynolds directed, steering her to the kitchen table as Joe unrolled and buttoned his sleeve again. "Forgive us. Finn is greatly unsettled by seeing another human being hurt."

"Obviously," Aleka agreed quietly, smiling at Finn. "Seeing blood is difficult for many. It's never easy when your limbic system takes over, is it, Finn?"

The woman recoiled at those words, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Forgive me. Isaiah, I think you should leave the three of us alone."

"But you aren't well."

"I'll be fine, Isaiah. Please?"

"If you're sure. I'll be in the next room. Call if you need me."

"Always. Thank you." She smiled up at him and waited until he was gone before looking at Aleka, more or less ignoring Joe. "Are you here to kill me?"

"After what you did to those people, what do you think?" Aleka answered, an ornate dagger seeming to almost appear in her hand out of thin air. Joe had no idea where she had been hiding it and he had not seen her move to get it.

"After…" She shook her head. "You're not the one who took Missy and Dan from us?" she asked, frowning at Aleka.

Aleka frowned right back. "Am I meant to take that as a profession of innocence?"

"Yes!" She nodded emphatically. "I couldn't have loved those two more if I'd hatched them myself…"

Joe stared at her. _Hatched?_

There was a flash of silver and the knife Aleka had been holding was just gone. "Then I need to know who the other Sirens in your congregation are."

"You honestly expect me to Out them?" she asked, shaking her head. "You come into my home with a _typical_ and you ask me to expose my own kind? You go too far. Please leave."

"At least five people are dead, Finn. If it's not you, it's another member of the flock."

Her frown deepened. "Five people?" she repeated vaguely.

"A woman named Amy Grant who worked with Marissa Howard was also killed, and there are at least two others that we know of," Joe told her. "Killer had some kind of feeding ground in an old warehouse down by the docks. That's the only site we've found so far, but I have it on good authority from a forensic shrink and from Doctor Pappas here that there are probably others."

She nodded slowly, looking nauseous. "That makes sense. You never cache all your food in the same location." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Good God, this is terrible. There's no way you're just regular cops. Who do you represent?"

"I'm with the Sanctuary," Aleka told her.

Finn nodded slowly, expression clouded. "I know your reputation, but I'll still need assurances that the innocent won't suffer in this."

"You have my word," the Siren/psychologist answered. "We've developed a non-invasive method of testing stool samples for human remains. False negatives are quite unheard of. I undergo weekly testing myself as a condition of my employment with the Sanctuary."

Finn considered in silence. "How long have you been with them?"

"Almost seventy years now. They're decent people, Finn. They aren't going to try to pin these killings on anyone who isn't responsible for them."

"There are three others in the congregation, two émigrés and a third generation American."

"Any males in that group?"

"Tony," she answered, nodding.

"The third generation Yank?" Aleka asked, looking troubled.

"What?" Joe asked.

"For a serial killer, a male suspect makes more sense," she explained to him. "But, as a third generation…"

"He wasn't raised on human flesh like the émigrés," Finn finished for her.

Joe nodded. "So you think we're looking for a relapsed addict?"

"I'd have to say it seems likely," Aleka agreed. "Although, at this point, the profile may have become moot. The test is definitive."

"Then we're in good shape," he answered. "We'll need the names and addresses of all three, Mrs. Reynolds."

Finn shook her head, expression grim. "The meet will take place at the neutral third location of my choice. I have a duty to protect these people."

"Fair enough," Aleka answered calmly. "But I have a duty of my own and I need you to understand that, Finn."

She closed her eyes, nodding.

"We'll need to test you, too."

"Of course. I should be the first to be tested, as a gesture of good faith to your Sanctuary and as an example to my people."

"Tell those who look to you that refusal to submit to testing will be taken as strongly suggestive of their guilt in this matter. Assure them that I personally will be overseeing the entire testing process from start to finish."

"That'll reassure them somewhat."

"My card." Aleka handed it to her. "Tell your people to spread the word. No matter their affiliation, or lack thereof, any Siren who willingly submits him or herself to testing will be considered a friend of the Sanctuary. We would very much like to foster an air of greater cooperation between the Sanctuary Siren race."

"You talk like a typical," Finn answered with slight scorn in her voice.

"I'm not the only person in this room who lopped her wings off to Pass, dear. You're in no position to judge. You don't know the things we do."

She switched to what was presumably Greek and whatever she said dropped Finn's jaw. A short, urgent conversation ensued and, when both women finally fell silent, Finn looked ready to be ill.

"I wasn't aware," she whispered, giving a shaky nod. "We'll spread the word far and wide. I don't think there are more than twenty of us in the city, but we'll all do what we can to help stop this monster."

Aleka nodded, climbing to her feet. "A hotel room would be best for the meets. It's relatively public for you and yours but will give us the space and privacy we need to perform the tests."

"I'll set it up and be ready for my own test by eight."

Aleka retrieved the card and scribbled a number on the back. "Tell them to call this number to collect payment for the room."

"I will. Thank you."

She nodded. "Does your husband know what you are?"

"Not precisely."

A frown. "How did you explain the scars?"

"I didn't even need to lie to him about my abusive childhood," she answered, shrugging. "My only sin has been one of omission."

"You use your powers on your parishioners?"

"The ones who need me to." She nodded.

"Marissa and Daniel?"

"Yes. Why?"

"No reason, Finn. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter. I'll be seeing you shortly."

With that, she turned and swept from the room. Joe had to more or less run to keep up with her long strides.

"What is it? What's going on?"

"The little fool has no formal training. She wouldn't recognize an addiction if it smacked her in the face."

Well, shit…

"People can become addicted to a Siren's Voice?"

"Yes." She nodded. "And, like most addicts, once they are well and truly hooked…"

"They'd do anything to get another fix," Joe sighed. "Including hooking up with a complete stranger if he also so happens to be a Siren?"

"Exactly. We may not be looking for a member of this congregation at all. Which returns us to Square One, I'm afraid."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

When Joe entered the hotel room where the testing was to take place, the first thing he saw was Aleka putting together a machine-gun.

"What the hell is _that_?" he demanded.

Ashley, who had been peering out the window to the street below looked over her shoulder at his question.

"Hey, Joe," she greeted him absently. "It's a Sten. British military phased them out in '53 and the Israelis used it in their War of Independence. These days it's more of a collector's item to most people." She grinned. "Trust a woman Aleka's age to go vintage when she's required to pack."

Aleka smiled. "You've improved your weapons knowledge since the last time I saw you, Ashley."

"Uh, Aleka, the last time you saw me, I was still in diapers," Ashley reminded her, peering out the window again. "Finn Reynolds just pulled into the parking-garage. Get the piece out of sight."

The Siren dropped to her knees and slid the weapon well under the bed before climbing to her feet again. She glanced at Joe.

"Ready?"

"I think so, yeah. You really anticipate violence?"

"Seems unlikely, but it's always better to be safe. You ready, Ashley?"

"Yup." She pulled out her cell phone and dialed, heading for the door. "Yeah, Henry, it's me. You're looking for a yellow Honda Insight, plate number A27H6…" Her voice trailed off as the hotel room door clicked shut.

"What's that about?" Joe asked.

"We'll be RF-tagging all their vehicles so we can track their movements. I doubt the killer's going to show up here, but someone who knows him just might."

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

"And I'm pretty sure no one working for the Sanctuary is a cop," she answered, shrugging.

He sighed.

"I'm sorry, Joe, but we aren't going to be able to handle this inside the law. Truth is, Helen knows judges who would give us the warrants we need to track these people, but they wouldn't hold up in court and, after that, Fruit of the Poisoned Tree kicks in and _all_ of our evidence becomes inadmissible. GPS tracking of vehicles hasn't made it to your Supreme Court yet but most jurisdictions still expect you to have Probable Cause."

"You seem pretty up on the US legal system for a Brit."

"Will briefed me while you were unconscious."

"Ah." He nodded.

"And I'm Greek, not English in spite of the accent."

"Right. So, once we figure out who this guy is, what? The Sanctuary locks him up in the SHU?"

"He vanishes off the face of the Earth," she answered, sitting on the bed. "No new murders happen and the cops aren't _happy_ about it, but they allow the case to go cold anyway and it eventually fades from the public awareness."

"I can think of a few cases I've worked since I started this job where that kind of scenario would explain a few things."

"Most cops of any long service have several," she agreed, nodding.

"Hmm." He looked around the hotel room. "Will's conspicuous in his absence."

"He's interviewing a couple who reported their teenage son missing a few hours ago."

Joe frowned. "I'm assuming there's no body yet, so why are we treating this like it's related?"

"He was a tutor in Marissa Howard's literacy group."

"Church member?"

"The family were atheists." She climbed to her feet and retrieved a file folder, handing it to him. "He may have been a literacy tutor, but he had a wild side, too. Based on his behavior, the parents were worried he might have started taking drugs."

"Only we're assuming that his drug of choice was the sound of a Siren's Voice?"

"The police are currently treating him as a runaway, but his connection to one of the other victims raised the Sanctuary's red flags."

Joe opened his mouth to ask her why the cops were ignoring that angle, but stopped at the sound of tentative knocking on the door.

"It's all in the file," Aleka told him, walking to the door. "There shouldn't be any trouble here tonight, but I'd still appreciate it if you'd take the safety off now. If you need to shoot someone, _don't_ go center-mass. That can take up to five minutes to actually kill one of us. The fastest way to drop a Siren is a double-tap between the eyes."

"I'll bear that in mind," he answered, unsnapping his holster and thumbing off the safety before staring down at the file again. "Mrs. Reynolds," he greeted Finn as she entered.

"Detective. You're here for Aleka's protection?"

"We don't anticipate it being needed," he answered, "but, with a killer on the loose, you can't be too safe."

"No, of course not," she agreed quietly. She looked at Aleka. "I'm sorry if I seemed harsh or resistant earlier. It's just so hard to believe that one of my own could be capable of this atrocity."

"This 'atrocity' is what we're evolved for, Finn," Aleka answered, gesturing towards the bathroom. "However, I fully understand that most abbies feel a need to stick together. Let's get this over with, dear. Will you be staying afterwards?"

"Yes. I should be here for the others."

"You're welcome to, naturally."

Finn murmured something in Greek and Aleka nodded in response, expression grave. The preacher's wife swallowed hard, but nodded acceptance.

"I see. Let's get this over with, then."

Finn followed Aleka into the bathroom and, a few minutes later, the two women emerged, Finn looking faintly relieved as she sat on the edge of the bed.

After that, every twenty or thirty minutes, someone else tentatively announced themselves.

What struck Joe was the diversity of the group. Most looked decidedly Greek, but not all by any means. One young man looked Japanese and there was a girl named Anika who looked distinctly Scandinavian. Some were dressed in suits, others in jeans or factory uniforms, and one man looked homeless. Age-wise, they ran the gambit. None of them appeared to have wings.

Until about three in the morning when a Siren who looked about twelve showed up. She was dressed and made up like a complete Emo Goth and made no attempt to hide her snowy white wings. Which looked like, extended, they probably had a span of easily ten or twelve feet. Her left forearm was a mass of parallel scars and a few cuts that looked like they'd been made in the last half hour or so.

She stopped in the doorway, staring at Joe with undisguised contempt. "Why is there a _typical_ here?" she demanded in a harsh, Jersey-sounding voice.

"At my invitation," Aleka answered calmly. "Why aren't your wings clipped, child?"

She drew herself up to her full height, which made her marginally taller than Aleka. "I am not ashamed of what I am!"

"Flaunting those in public is inadvisable," Aleka informed her simply. "Are you _trying_ to get yourself lynched?"

"Typicals don't scare me," she scoffed. "They're prey. They couldn't hurt me if they _wanted_ to."

Joe frowned, but held his tongue until Aleka had performed the test, pronounced it negative, and ushered the girl from the hotel room.

"Do many of your kind feel that way about humans?" he asked.

It was Finn who answered. "When one is marginalized based on race, a degree of anger is a natural response. Many young abnormals resent typicals. Most grow out of it."

"Didn't you ever resent authority growing up, Joe?" Aleka added.

"Never to that degree." He shook his head. "Seriously, if that's the mindset, it doesn't really matter whether any of these people are the killer or not. _Any_ of them could be shielding him."

Finn shook her head. "Secrecy is everything when you're one of us. The human race would _flip_ if they knew about our existence. Innocent Sirens would be killed. We all know the risks. Our own personal feelings for your kind aside, Detective, none of us would willingly harbor a killer who threatens to expose us all."

Aleka nodded confirmation. "Besides, if any of these people knew who the killer was, they would have taken matters into their own hands by now. We're pretty insular as a people, don't like involving outsiders in internal affairs. If people knew who the killer was, you'd have a DB on your hands that had been given the Blood Eagle treatment."

Finn nodded in agreement.

Joe frowned. "Blood Eagle?"

Aleka nodded and calmly explained, "It's when you break the ribs at the spine, pull them out through the victim's back, remove their lungs, and rub salt into the wounds every few minutes."

His jaw dropped. "Salt on the wounds? You mean a person can _survive_ all that?"

Aleka smiled. "The Norse were innovative like that. Sirens adopted the practice a few centuries ago in cases where a person's actions signify a betrayal of the race as a whole. Gives the offender his wings back, you see."

"Jesus," he whispered, feeling sick. "_Humans_ invented this?"

"Humans also invented genocide," Finn pointed out.

"Finn," Aleka sighed, shaking her head. "Don't bait the typical. He's a decent guy."

She shrugged and leaned back on the bed, humming to herself. Joe felt his head start to nod and immediately went for his gun.

"Cut the crap, Finn," Aleka directed, shaking her head. "If you try it again, I'll rip your throat out with my teeth. Understand?"

Joe watched her with wide eyes, swallowing hard. He wasn't entirely sure whether Aleka's expression right now qualified as hot or disturbing. She seemed to _really_ enjoy the idea of doing that to Finn.

The preacher's wife shrugged. "Just wanted to see if he was paying attention. He spends two seconds daydreaming and he could get you both killed."

"Our powers were demonstrated to him _quite_ thoroughly on our first meeting."

"So long as he's clear. Is that what happened to his arm?"

Aleka colored and looked away. "The arm was an accident. I missed a couple meals."

"Dangerous to do in your position," she noted, frowning.

"Not a mistake I'll be making again."

"Not a mistake you should have made _once_, given the risks of exposing our people."

"Sorry," Aleka answered with a bitter smile. "When I'm trying to trace a killer threatening to bring about the downfall of what's left of my already-endangered species, I sometimes get a tad distracted from other considerations."

"Point taken, but if it happens again, in _public_ or something…"

"I am _fully_ aware of the repercussions such an incident would have, yes." She nodded and glanced at her watch. "Expecting anyone else?"

She hesitated for a long moment before answering, expression thoughtful. "No, I don't think so. But I'll see that the word continues to spread. If anyone else submits themselves for testing, I'll get in touch with you. Thank you for at least assuring us who we may safely continue to trust."

Finn climbed to her feet, exchanged a quick kiss with Aleka, shook Joe's hand, and left the room. Aleka retrieved the Sten and started disassembling it.

"You know, we have the hotel room for another six hours."

She shook her head. "You didn't talk to Helen."

"No, not yet."

"You want to have that discussion with her before you reach that kind of decision about me, Joe. That's not a blow-off, it's the _truth_. Just like I wouldn't put a line of coke in front of James and leave the room, I can't be alone with you in that context any more. Now go home and get some sleep."

He sighed. "Ali…"

"Leave now, Joe," she answered quietly. "Or I will remove you bodily."

From the look on her face, she meant the threat. Shaking his head, he left her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"Hey, Helen, you got a minute?" he asked, knocking on the door.

She smiled up at him over the file she was reading. "Certainly, Joe. Come in. Can I offer you anything? Coffee, perhaps?"

"No, thanks. Cases like this I switch from coffee to no-doze."

She frowned. "That's hardly healthy for you, Joe," she pointed out gently. "If you'll come down to the infirmary with me, I can give you a psychical and, if you pass, I'll write you a prescription for Provigil. It has far fewer side-effect than traditional stimulants and allows you to operate at pre-deprivation levels of alertness and cognition for up to 40 hours."

He frowned. "And it's safe?"

"Absolutely," she answered, nodding. "It's used primarily for shift work disorder and daytime drowsiness in individuals with conditions such as apnea, however, your nation's military has been using it on combat troops for some years. I frequently use it myself."

"Guess that explains why you don't need coffee."

She smirked. "Joe, I assure you, the taste alone explains _that_." She shook her head, still smiling serenely. "However, if the Provigil is something you'd be interested in, I'll be happy to accommodate you."

"It's like, legal and everything?"

"Oh, quite. As I said, it's quite popular among shift-workers and, naturally, for its military applications. I imagine there are those who use it illegally but you find that with any pharmaceutical."

"True," he admitted. "How bad are the side-effects?"

"Mild for most. The most common ones are headache, nausea, and the jitters. On that note, if you have an anxiety disorder, you probably want to avoid it. An employee of mine once had a bad experience."

"No, no real psych issues," he told her. Which, most of the time, even happened to be true.

"Well, then, let's go down to the infirmary," she answered, climbing to her feet and leaving the office. "I'm assuming your hypertension is well controlled by the calcium channel blocker?" she asked as they walked.

He frowned. "How the hell did you know about that?"

"When it became clear that Will was going to have no choice but to bring you into our world, I pulled your medical file to make sure it was safe for you to be involved."

"Safe for…" His jaw dropped. "You pulled my _psych_ records?" he demanded.

"Oh course not, Joe," she answered, frowning and shaking her head. "That would be a tremendous invasion of your privacy. But I needed to be sure you wouldn't have a heart attack or stroke the minute Will brought you downstairs and, of course, it's always wise to check for the presence of allergies or other sensitivities."

He frowned. "'Other sensitivities'?"

She hesitated and, for a moment, Joe thought she was going to get cagey, then she shrugged and informed him. "Certain neurological conditions render one considerably more susceptible to psychic tampering. And the use of certain drugs simply isn't advisable when you're a part of this world."

His frown deepened. "How so?"

"Well, the recreational ones make you easier for our enemies to subvert and, of course, opiates and other drugs increase psychic awareness which can be very problematic when working closely with certain abnormals. For example, in the early seventies I took codeine for a rather severe cough, then made the mistake of trying to speak with the Sanctuary mermaid. Her mind completely overwhelmed my own and I was in a coma for three days."

Joe gaped. "_Sally_ put you in a coma?"

"Obviously not intentionally. The poor dear was quite frantic."

"So the codeine like… weakened your psyche?"

"Not remotely. Codeine increases activity in the cingulated cortex and alters temporal-lobe function as well which, in effect, increases an individual's psychic potential to a great degree. I'm afraid I took rather more than I probably should have done, which didn't help matters. At any rate, it's like opening a window on a cold night. If you just crack it, the breeze on your face can be rather pleasant. But if you open the window all the way and kick off your covers, you could lose a couple of toes."

He considered this. "Psychic frostbite?"

"Essentially," she confirmed. "Or perhaps hypothermia is more accurate, considering what it actually did do to my brain-function. Hallucinogens are worse than opiods and other mind-altering prescriptions drugs, naturally, but I would hardly expect those to be mentioned in your medical records." She smiled and continued, "Do you suffer many side-effects from the calcium channel blockers? I notice your GP never tried you on beta blockers for some reason. You might find them more tolerable."

"Do they cause headaches?"

"Not nearly to the extent that many calcium channel blockers can, no." She shook her head. "Would you be interested in trying them for awhile?"

"Free second opinions? That like a benefit of membership?"

"No." She shook her head, expression playful. "Merely a function of the fact that I see enough potential in you to look forward to seeing you at your most… _functional_."

He smiled, a little nervously because she could easily have been hitting on him. He really couldn't tell for sure, but she was beautiful and, at her age, probably even more experienced than Aleka. Which was kind of hot to consider, but daunting as well.

As if sensing this, her smile turned gentle. "So, Provigil and a beta blocker, yes? But those aren't why you came to my office this morning. There was something else you required of me, Joe?"

"Uh, yeah, a question I was hoping you could answer." He cleared his throat, embarrassed. "But it's kind of personal…"

"Personal to you or personal to me?" she asked gently, steering him into the infirmary. Her manner had suddenly become almost maternal, which was actually really soothing.

"Personal to me. And Aleka."

"Ah." She nodded her understanding. "Have a seat and take your shirt off. I can check your arm at the same time. Your question?"

"Uh…" He hesitated, wondering how to phrase it. "Ali and I…"

"Became lovers her first night here," she supplied when he faltered. Her expression was completely without anything resembling judgment. In fact, there was very real compassion there. "But she distanced herself from you after the incident in which your arm was injured and now you're wondering whether that distance is strictly necessary."

"She discuss it with you?" he guessed, discarding his shirt and climbing onto the exam-table.

"No. She's been reluctant to speak of the incident which itself tells me how affecting it was for her." She sighed. "I'm inclined to agree with her assessment, Joe. As with any recovering addict, certain settings and forms of stimulation must be avoided. Ali now knows specifically how _your_ flesh tastes. You are no longer safe alone in her presence. I'm sorry," she added, patting his shoulder before reaching for a blood-pressure cuff.

He shook his head. "So, just like that…"

"In certain circles, they talk about 'safe and sane' sexuality, Joe," she informed him gently. "It is no longer safe for you or sane for Ali. The best thing for both of you is to move forward and try to remain friends and colleagues."

"This kind of thing happen often in this world of yours?" he asked bitterly.

He was startled by the pain in her eyes when she returned his look with an apologetic one of her own. No, not pain. More like… _desolation_.

"More often than you can possibly imagine, Joe, and it _never_ ends well, not for any of us. Forget it if you can. That would be in your best interest."

He wanted to ask her who she had lost that way, try to offer some comfort, but Will chose that moment to enter. Joe didn't think he would ever get used to seeing Will comfortably handle a firearm, but the psychiatrist was chambering a round as he entered. He tucked the weapon back into his holster and approached.

"We've got a hit. One of the cars we tagged last night is in the warehouse district. Ashley and Aleka are already on their way."

"Let's roll," Joe answered, grabbing his shirt.

"We'll finish this when you get back, Joe," Magnus told him. "Whose car, Will?"

"Finn Reynolds."

Joe sighed. He had honestly started to hope Finn wasn't involved. Reverend Reynolds was a decent man. He didn't need to find out he was married to someone complicit in serial murder. Shaking his head, he followed Will from the infirmary, buttoning his shirt as he went.

0101010

Ashley and Aleka were arguing quietly when Joe and Will arrived.

"Throw in some stun-grenades and sort it out back at the Sanctuary," was Ashley's favored strategy.

"Observe and get a clearer picture of what's actually going on," Aleka advised instead.

"I'm going to have to go with Aleka on this one," Will told them. "We know for a fact that Finn Reynolds isn't the only killer because she hasn't recently eaten human flesh. That means we've got at least one other killer out there. If we bring Reynolds in too soon and the other killer goes to ground we'll _never_ find them and more people will die."

"She may not be culpable at all," Aleka pointed out. "Sirens are quite prone to handle matters of justice internally. She could easily be here to _confront_ the real killer."

"The real killer she declined to hand over to us yesterday?" Ashley scoffed.

"Yes. I told you they weren't going to be comfortable with the idea of typicals being involved. We are a private people by nature. Be so good as to respect that about us."

"I have a hard time respecting people who opt to Pass instead of being proud of who they are."

"Easy to say when you Pass as a typical without even having to work for it, Miss Abby Pride."

Joe's eyes widened at the contempt in Aleka's tone. Ashley looked like she'd just been slapped.

"Ladies," Will said gently, stepping between them and resting one hand on each of their shoulders. "Let's get in there and figure out what's going on. If you want to fight, you can do it later. At the Sanctuary. With gloves on. We're here to catch a killer. This is _not_ the time for a debate on how much conformity is too much," he told Ashley. Turning his gaze to Aleka, he added quietly, "Or to be throwing around racial slurs. Now let's get inside and scope things out."

Ashley and Aleka regarded each other thoughtfully for a moment. Then, at the same time, they reached out and clasped hands.

"Truce," Ashley said.

"For the time being," Aleka agreed easily. "All right, people. Let's do this thing."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Unlike the previous warehouse, this one was not abandoned. Which Joe thought was both a bad and a good thing. On the one hand, more chance of a complete innocent showing up in the wrong place at the wrong time and getting hurt, _**or**_ of a bad guy sneaking up on you from between the rows of crates. On the other hand, less chance of you being seen as you hid in _your_ aisle.

Ashley, Will, and Aleka were swapping hand signals that Joe thought looked more military than SWAT. He was a little lost, but he stuck close to Aleka which seemed to be all anyone expected of him. Will and Ashley disappeared down one aisle and Joe shadowed Aleka into one in the opposite direction.

After a few minutes of maneuvering through the maze of rows, Joe caught sight of Finn, simply standing in an empty space in the middle of the warehouse with her hands clasped behind her back. She was completely still and unmoving, almost supernaturally so, but Joe was very much getting a 'predator ready to spring' vibe from her body language.

Aleka obviously saw it, too. She gestured for Joe to just wait. He nodded and settled in for the long haul.

Perhaps twenty minutes later, a man bearing a striking resemblance to Finn strode into view. He approached her, taking her by both arms and kissing each cheek. She did not return the gesture.

"Interesting place for a meeting, Finn," he told her. "Why one of my warehouses and not the Branch Office?"

"Cyril," she answered quietly. "You didn't come last night."

"Got hung up at work, sorry."

"I don't believe you."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Finn, I'm your _brother_!"

"And if you loved me, you would have been there for me! Or at least _called_, Cyril! I needed you and you weren't there. I came within about an inch of giving your name to those people when you didn't show for testing!"

"Can't believe your mind went there that fast," he answered, turning away.

She grabbed his shoulder. "Tell me where the boy is and I won't turn you in. But, one way or the other, Cyril, you have _got_ to leave town."

"I'll disappear if you want, but I'm going to need a snack for the road."

"He's a _child_, Cyril!" she protested, shaking her head. "It's bad enough that you took advantage of me by going after my parishioners, but going after a child in Missy's care? What were you _thinking_?"

"That young flesh is more tender."

"I should kill you myself. Is it just you, or were there others involved?"

He scoffed. "Look at the rest of you! You've let yourself be tamed, let your wings be clipped in more ways than the visible one. There was a time when humanity feared our kind! Now you pathetic lap-dogs fear _them_!"

"If it weren't for your actions we wouldn't have anything to fear in the first place!" she shouted. "How am I supposed to explain any of this to Isaiah?"

"I'm not sure," he drawled. "But, if it were me, I'd use the Voice while I was doing it."

"The… Cyril, what's _happened_ to you?"

"I remembered who I am."

She stared at him in uneasy silence for a long moment before asking quietly. "How long? How many?"

He shrugged "A couple years. A couple dozen."

"_Dozens?_" she repeated, looking aghast. "How did everyone fail to notice that many disappearances in so short a time?"

"Oh, Finn, you naive little idealist," he laughed. "Do you honestly think anyone out there gives a shit about whores and winos?"

"Then why start coming after people who looked to me for protection?" she demanded, sobbing.

"Healthy animals taste better. And _you_ pre-tenderized them for me. Once I told them what we were, they were more than happy to come home with me."

She staggered back, one hand over her mouth the other pressed hard against her stomach.

"Now!" Ashley shouted and she and Will popped into view, both firing repeatedly at Cyril with their tranquilizer rounds.

Joe and Aleka followed suit and Cyril slumped to the ground at almost the same moment that the fainting Finn did. Aleka and Will went to Finn while Joe helped Ashley secure the unconscious killer.

"I take it you've got a cell all set up for our boy here?" Joe asked.

"Oh, yeah," Ashley answered grinning fiercely. "And a new soy-based diet for him, too."

"That's just cruel," Aleka laughed, looking up from Finn. "But highly appropriate."

"It's okay, Finn," Will murmured as the woman started to come around. "He's not dead, just sedated."

She looked at her unconscious brother and let out a sob, drawing herself into a ball and howling with anguish.

"Let's get them both back to the Sanctuary," Aleka directed, picking Finn up as easily as if she were a baby and cradling her against her chest. "We can get this sorted there. Helen has a truth serum that'll get him to reveal the location of the boy and any other victims we don't know about."

Joe nodded, feeling a little numb as he helped Ashley drag the unconscious man across the warehouse.

0101010

"I didn't know," Finn repeated quietly, shaking her head. The poor woman looked heart-broken. "I knew that he'd changed, gotten distant, but it never once occurred to me that he might have gone back to the old ways. He was a businessman, genuinely enjoyed the modern ways of living. I swear, if I'd known, if I'd even _suspected_…"

"We never want to think of our own family that way," Will answered quietly, leaning forward and lightly grasping her arm. "No one blames you, Finn. When you started to suspect, you immediately put your foot down. You did the right thing."

Joe didn't bother pointing out that it was also a very _stupid_ thing to confront a suspected killer alone in the middle of nowhere. The woman was upset enough already without anyone calling her an idiot on top of it.

"The boy?" she whispered, regarding them hopefully.

"Ashley and Aleka have him," Will assured her. "He'll need a couple days in the hospital and, obviously, extensive therapy, but he'll still recover completely and go on to lead a fairly normal life. He only knows he was kidnapped, doesn't have the first clue what nearly happened to him."

"Oh, thank the Lord," she whispered, burying her face in her hands.

"Do you need some time alone, Finn?" Will offered gently.

"Please," she half-sobbed.

"Let me know when you're ready for me to call your husband. Or if you just need to talk." With these words, Will climbed to his feet and gestured for Joe to follow him.

"Good luck, Mrs. Reynolds," he murmured before following Will.

"Thank you, Detective," she whispered as he went.

0101010

The kid, Andy, was pretty knocked around emotionally but, physically, he was in surprisingly good shape. Apparently, fear made human flesh tastier to Sirens, so Cyril had gotten into the habit of keeping his victims alive and just _terrorizing_ them for a couple days before he went in for the kill.

He had some bruises and cuts, the worst being those on his wrists where he'd tried to wriggle free of the laundry-ties used to secure him, but that was all. There was not a single bite mark on him, either. But Aleka was still worried.

The kid was going to look back, she explained to Joe, remember the terrible situation he'd been in, the terrible things that had been done to him, and he was always going to keep asking himself why, in God's name, he had _enjoyed_ it…

She made him leave the room before she would say a word to the boy. Then she sat on the edge of the hospital bed, rested a hand on his shoulder, and started to speak. Joe watched through the glass, wondering what she was saying. Something effective in that sick way shrinks had, because the boy was weeping freely within less than two minutes.

Within five minutes, he was in Aleka's arms, face buried in her shoulder. Apparently talking, because she didn't seem to be saying very much herself, just murmuring something into his ear from time to time. Finally, she gently lay Andy back in the bed, covering him and then tucking him in before rising and joining Joe in the hallway.

"That looked painful," Joe whispered.

"Not as painful as it would have been for him had I _not_ been present," she answered. "According to Finn Reynolds, there's a Siren here in town who happens to be a psychologist. He'll take over the boy's care. Helen's arranged everything."

He frowned thoughtfully. "Do many of you go into psychology?"

"Mostly just the ones who haven't figured out how lucrative professional singing is…" she answered with a smirk.

He laughed and shook his head. "That's sick, Aleka."

"It also happens to be perfectly true in at least three cases I know of."

"Wow. _Who?_"

She smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, Joe, but they have a right to their privacy. Besides, would you really want to disrupt your enjoyment of them like that? Listening to their music would never be the same for you again."

"After all this, I don't think listening to music is _ever_ going to be the same again."

"Sorry."

"Not a problem," he assured her, looking in on the sleeping Andy. "He going to be okay?"

"It'll be slow going at first and it _will_ always be with him. That's something not even my people can erase. But, within a year, he will have made some measure of peace with what happened. _Less_ if his doctor is any good at using his gift."

He nodded slowly. "What did he tell the cops?"

"The truth, drugged and kidnapped. His tox results came back clean, of course, but the police have no reason to question that considering how quickly GHB clears the system."

He nodded. "Makes closing date-rape cases a bitch."

"They'll be comfortable assuming that his behavior and disorientation after his rescue were from shock rather than drugs, so the story will hold up."

"So that's it? We just let the case go cold from here?"

"No, circumstances have changed," she told him, smiling. "I'm sure your department will be greatly reassured. In two days, a man will be found dead in the warehouse where you discovered the first remains."

Joe's jaw dropped. "_Jesus, Ali!_ You can't just…"

"Relax, Joe," she suggested, resting a hand on his arm. "The Sanctuary isn't in the habit of generating dead human bodies. However, Ansen made it quite clear in his will that he would like his body to be used to further our aims. I would say that preventing the police from looking too deeply at these crimes in future qualifies. The fact that people will be comforted is an added bonus."

Joe considered, not remotely comfortable with the idea. "How often do you do this kind of thing?"

"As often as it's necessary and possible." She shrugged. "This is what Ansen _wanted_, Joe. To keep abnormals from public notice. I have no qualms about desecrating his corpse under these conditions."

He sighed and shook his head. "What about the man's reputation?"

"Irrelevant. He has no family and those of us who knew him know the truth. No one else matters."

"How did he die?"

"Suffocation. His scuba-gear malfunctioned while he was searching for an abnormal off the coast of Japan. Which is regrettable but convenient as it will make staging it as a suicide quite simple."

"Convenient?" he repeated, frowning. She hadn't been kidding about how different her people's minds worked from those of humans.

"Did you know him well?"

"He was my patient for three years. Based on his age, size, build, assorted extreme forms of body-modification, and physical evidence of considerably violent interaction for most of his life, no one will have a problem believing him to be capable of cold blooded murder."

"And you don't have a problem with people thinking your former patient was a cannibalistic killer?"

"No." She shook her head. "Why?"

"No reason," he answered quietly, shaking his head. Just as well the physical relationship hadn't continued. He couldn't have loved a woman with that kind of mindset towards the people she was supposed to be taking care of. "Look, I need to get back to the station."

"Of course." She smiled and kissed his cheek. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Joe. Thanks for everything."

"No problem, Aleka. You take care of yourself."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Uh, Magnus?" Will asked, entering her office. "Did you have Cyril transferred out of the SHU?"

"Of course not, Will," she answered, frowning. "Why on Earth would I do something like that?"

Will's expression went from quizzical to _horrified_. "He's not down there, Magnus. I looked. Twice."

She picked up the phone and rapidly punched numbers. "Henry, Level Two Lockdown, _now_. Cyril has escaped."

Five hours of intensive searching later, it was clear that Cyril was no longer anywhere in the Sanctuary or on the grounds. It was also clear that his cell had been opened from the outside.

"Henry's warned the Siren community," Ashley announced, striding into Magnus' office. "I'm going to go start pounding pavement."

"Ashley."

"Yeah?"

"Kindly start your search at Finn Reynolds' church."

"You've got it, Mom," she agreed, turning to go.

"Dear, there's one more thing."

"What?" she asked, frowning.

"Kindly consider that this is a renegade _Siren_ we're dealing with."

The girl's expression was momentarily blank, then it clicked for her and she started to look queasy.

"Understood, Mom. I've got it under control."

"Thank you. I love you, Ashley."

"Love you, too." Ashley gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then ran from the office.

Will sighed deeply, dropping onto the couch. "Magnus, you're not going to like this, but I've got to say it."

She sighed as well before sitting down next to him. "Go ahead, Will."

"Everything I've read about this species says that they're very strongly in to vigilante justice."

"Yes," she agreed, nodding. "Which is why I sent Ashley to the Church. I'd rather the police _not_ know that a man was tortured to death using an ancient Norse technique in Old City tonight."

He sighed and nodded. "Kind of figured that. The thing is…"

"Go on," she prompted. "You'll feel better once you've said it out loud."

"Even though she was in London at the time he was taken from the SHU, we can't ignore the fact that Aleka was probably involved in this. No way did a pack of Sirens get in and out of this place undetected without inside help. They had the security codes."

She shook her head, looked him in the eye, and confessed, "I don't have a _choice_ but to ignore her involvement, Will. There's no hard evidence she had anything to do with it and she won't have left any behind. If I try to condemn her based solely on the fact that she's a Siren…"

"You've got a PR nightmare on your hands?" he realized, shaking his head. "You become just one more 'typical' judging an abnormal based solely on species. Damn."

"She knew I'd be unable to retaliate. The strongest action I can take at this point would be to have James publically reprimand her for failing to see the killing coming and I'm reluctant to do that for the same reasons I can't openly accuse her of being complicit."

"The perfect crime," Will muttered, shaking his head. "She did it, we know she did it, everyone else is going to know she did it, but no one's ever going to be able to call her on it…"

"She's clever, I have to give her that. I honestly should have seen this coming."

He shook his head. "Magnus, Aleka Pappas has been with the Sanctuary for almost 70 years and her service-record is spotless. _No one_ could have seen this coming." He shrugged and pointed out. "I knew _exactly_ how angry these crimes made her, I used to work with killers for a living, have been known to predict murder attempts before they actually happened, and _I_ didn't see this coming."

"Well, if you didn't see it, either," she sighed, patting his knee. "Thank you, Will. You're right, of course. I sometimes demand too much of myself."

"Just occasionally. So, how are we going to play this?" he asked. "Because, whether we confront her or not, she can_not_ keep being a part of this organization."

She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back and rubbing the back of her neck.

"You… don't plan on getting rid of her?" he asked, sounding perplexed.

"Will, we _need_ Aleka," she whispered, not opening her eyes. "In addition to her extensive contacts within abnormal groups who would otherwise have _zero_ dealings with the Sanctuary, there is no psychiatrist on this planet as talented at treating Post-Traumatic Stress and Survivor's Guilt."

"Which, for Sanctuary staff, is a pretty huge job-hazard." He sighed. "Jesus, Magnus. Aleka, she's…"

"To put it in terms Ashley might employ, 'she has me by the balls', Will."

"We can't let her get away with that," he protested. "The worldwide Sanctuary network needs to be united behind a strong leader, not one whose authority just got undermined like this."

She sighed and opened her eyes, looking sideways at him. "Which is why no one, outside of us, Henry, and Ashley, must ever know…"

His stared at her with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. "You're just going to make this vanish?"

"I know that very much flies in the face of your youthful idealism, Will, but it's the only way. Aleka understood that all too well. Her position would have been _severely_ weakened by the mere suspicion that she might have been involved in Cyril's death. She'll be Head of the UK Sanctuary one day. No member of the younger generation would have accepted her leadership if there was the slightest suspicion that she might have participated in Old Guard vigilante justice. Exposing her would considerably weaken her position, but she also knows that I can't afford to have my own authority questioned by letting it be known that I was undermined to this extent."

He let out a low puff of air. "Damn, you weren't kidding about her having us by the balls…"

"No. And, on that note, I'm going to have to forbid you to attempt any retaliation of your own against her for this. More likely than not, you'll be taking over the entire Sanctuary network one day. I'd rather you do that _without_ a woman like Aleka Pappas bearing you any significant grudge."

"Magnus," he began, shaking his head.

"I mean that, Will. There will be severe consequences if you disobey me in this. This organization is difficult enough to run without office politics intruding at every turn. I will not tolerate _any_ attempt by you to retaliate against Aleka Pappas."

"I can get her to step out of line some other way that doesn't reflect on you."

"No, Will." She shook her head. "One of these days, you and Aleka Pappas will be the two most powerful members of this organization. She _will_ be content to be subordinate to you. Unless she bears you a grudge over some other matter: in which case she will attempt to destroy you. Which would tear the Sanctuary apart. I can't allow that to happen, Will. Nor, to be quite honest, am I comfortable with the idea of the Sanctuary being under the guidance of a rather anti-human individual."

"How anti-human are we talking here?" Will asked. "I mean, she takes the trouble to Pass and goes to real extremes to not eat us anymore."

"Yes, but she does still hold _homo sapiens sapiens_ to be considerably inferior. The Sanctuary has always been about allowing people to coexist. Under the wrong leadership, this organization could become the diametric opposite of the Cabal, but no better for mankind. I will _**not**_ have the Sanctuary become an organization used to marginalize and oppress human beings merely because you refuse to accept with good grace that I was just slapped in the face with my own ineffectualness!" She shook her head. "You're the future, Will; you're _needed_, whether you like it or not! Which is why you are going to keep your head down and not do anything to antagonize Aleka Pappas."

"Okay, okay." He held up his hands in surrender. "I'll steer clear. Doesn't mean that I like it, but I understand where you're coming from, too. I'm not sure how I'm going to manage to act civilly towards a woman who's suddenly as big a threat to us as the Cabal, but I'll find a way. I promise."

"Thank you, Will." She smiled and touched his cheek gently with the back of two fingers for a moment before rising. "I knew I could rely on you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to start the incinerator."

"I'll come keep you company," he answered, climbing to his feet. "You shouldn't have to be alone right now."

"Thank you, Will." As they walked, her phone rang. "Ashley."

"Mom, en route back as we speak. They didn't stop me from taking the body and Finn Reynolds swears no one's going to talk."

"Thank you, dear. We'll meet you downstairs." She hung up the phone and glanced sideways at Will. "The Sirens claim they won't talk. Can we trust those assurances?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Justice has been satisfied and an example has been made. They'll never forget what happened to Cyril, but their fear of exposure also means they aren't going to actually be willing to _discuss_ it, either. Once that body gets into that incinerator, this is over, Magnus. It doesn't go any farther."

"Good." She nodded. "Needless to say, I'd like that to include Joe. If he hears about what happened to Cyril…"

"He'd get the wrong idea. Absolutely, Magnus. As far as Joe's concerned, Cyril is languishing in the SHU where he belongs. Joe's unsure enough about all of this as it is. I'd honestly be surprised if he wasn't still trying to figure out whether he needs to be helping us or trying to bring us down."

"Oh, don't worry, Will. I have _that_ matter, at least, well in-hand…"

Will frowned blankly at her. She just smiled and shook her head, walking on.

0101010

Joe stared down at the Crime Scene Photos with a sigh. Jimmy Ansen of the Sanctuary, martyr to The Cause…

"It gets easier, Detective Kavanaugh," a female voice informed him.

He looked up, startled, and jumped to his feet as he recognized her. "Commissioner Grayson, ma'am…"

"As you were," she answered, waving a dismissive hand and closing the door. "You handled yourself well with the cannibal killings. I just wanted to thank you for that in person."

He blinked in surprise. "Um, I just did my job, ma'am." He gestured to the photos on his desk. "Besides, the case kind of closed itself."

"Of _course_ it did," she agreed, inclining her head. "But Helen tells me you went above and beyond to help her people out and that deserves a few minutes of my time." She sat down in front of his desk.

He stared. "You know Helen Magnus?"

"Which kind of puts a kink in your half-formed plans to bring her organization down." She shrugged, expression apologetic. "You honestly thought there weren't others on this Force who know or at least suspect all this? It's a big, crazy world out there, and we can't always do what needs to be done ourselves. And, in light of that, the Sanctuary has become a very necessary evil."

"So we just give them carte blanche to kidnap and sometimes _kill_?"

"I reviewed your service-record before I came down here, so we both know the answer to that."

"Hunting someone down with the intent to kill is not the same as suicide-by-cop!" he protested, shaking his head.

"Whenever possible, the Sanctuary catches without killing. But just like we're sometimes called upon to impose the death penalty, some people are just too dangerous to society to be allowed to live in it any longer. The principles are no different, Detective Kavanaugh, only the context."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just don't see how I'm supposed to be comfortable with the idea of those people operating outside the law on _my_ patch."

"Understandable." She produced a flash-drive and laid it on his desk before climbing to her feet. "Study these case-files, Detective, and email me if you still have questions or concerns. Thank you again for your handling of this case. Very well done. Good day."

He watched her go with another sigh, pain starting up just behind his right eye. Shaking his head, he picked up the drive and eyed it thoughtfully. He had Pandora's Box in his hand. The only question was whether or not to open it.

**The End**


End file.
